The Adventures of the Dragon Keeper
by Rita Arabella Black
Summary: This is set three years after Voldemort's defeat. This is my first Charlie Weasley story. He has quite a few adventures that bring him to new places where he meets some very interesting people.
1. Chapter 1

The name of this book is The Adventures of the Dragon Keeper. I started with one idea and it took on a mind of its own. I am so infatuated with Charlie Weasley that I knew I had to write his story.

The characters and the whole wizarding world is based on J.K. Rowling's wonderful Harry Potter series.

While the story was designed to be read by everyone, it does contain mature themes and language.

Chapter One—The Dragon Keeper

It had been three years since the defeat of Lord Voldemort by Harry Potter. While there were still dark wizards (as there had always been), the wizarding world flourished in the sense of optimism and freedom that had not been experienced during the reign of the Dark Lord. There were wizards who had never before lived without the underlying threat of Voldemort who had a difficult time believing that the reign of terror was finally over.

Charlie Weasley returned to his dormitory room at the dragon sanctuary very late after attending his brother Percy's wedding. He was happy for Percy, even after losing a bet with George that Percy would never get married. He did not mind losing the five galleons once he saw how happy his mum was. Percy had married, Audrey McMillan, a witch he met while working at the Ministry. She was shy and unpretentious and appeared to be extremely devoted to Percy. While his youngest brother Ron was convinced that she had to be under some sort of confunding spell, he acknowledged that she was a pretty sweet girl who would make "picky" Percy happy.

Charlie also was able to celebrate his niece, Victoire's first birthday a week before the wedding. Bill and Fleur, along with the rest of family doted on their beautiful baby daughter. She had her mother's eyes and her father's flaming red hair and ability to charm all those around her. She certainly had grand pop and grandma wrapped around her little finger.

The family had not completely recovered from Fred's death, but they were recovering.

The Ministry of Magic had paid homage to those who were killed fighting Voldemort and the Death Eaters. The gesture eased some of the pain. Charlie was worried if his brother, George, Fred's twin, would ever recover. But he dived into their joke shop business, Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, and was planning to open several shops in other wizarding communities, included America. His friendship with Angelina Johnson was blossoming, and Charlie saw signs of the old George finally returning.

Charlie was still feeling the effects of the fire whiskey party with his brothers and Harry Potter. They drank to the fallen witches and wizards, to the defeat of Voldemort and the death eaters, to Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, the Order of the Phoenix, Harry Potter, the Minister of Magic, until they ran out of toasts, finally toasting, "To motherhood!!" "To gillyweed!" Clearly the night was filled with merriment.

It was very late when he returned to his room. Regretting the last twelve toasts, Charlie had to return to work the next day. Luckily, he was scheduled to patrol the out perimeter of the sanctuary for any evidence of damage; a pretty routine job where, hopefully, he would not come in contact with any dragons. Confronting dragons while hung over might spell disaster.

"How's the family?" asked Mark, his friend and co-worker, asked the next morning as they mounted their brooms.

"Good," he said. "I think mum's back to normal. She's started hounding me about my hair being too long again. It's no longer than Bill's, but she never says a word to him any more about his hair. It was good seeing the family."

"So, did Fleur introduce you to any of her Veela cousins?" Mark asked, smiling shrewdly. The Veela were very beautiful that were able to mesmerize and charm males.

Charlie flashed a brilliant smile. "Oh, yeah." He nodded, knowingly.

The morning was spent near the highest barrier. The outer perimeter of the sanctuary was charmed to hold up to dragon flames and repeated head-butting the invisible barrier. Occasionally, the barrier became weakened by the constant assault of a dragon determined in its pea-sized reptilian brain to escape.

None had escaped during Charlie's watch, but he had heard the tale of the great escape by two Hungarian horntails that caused the near annihilation of a small village. A very powerful memory charm was used to convince the muggles of the village that the devastation was due to an earthquake, causing an avalanche that wiped out half the town, and killed fourteen men and seventy cattle and goats. The muggles talked for years about the earth quake that had caused a natural gas explosion without remembering the terrible slaughter.

Needless to say, guarding the perimeter was a high priority and was one of Charlie's favorite assignments. He loved to fly and any time spent outside on his broomstick was pure pleasure. His second favorite assignment was that of wrangler. Wrangling was physically moving the dragons from one area to another. When a dragon (usually a juvenile male) traveled outside its territory, a wrangler had to capture and return them to their area. This happened more often than one would think. Although most dragons were not bothered by other species, they were extremely territorial, and would fight to maintain or overtake an area. Juvenile males were relatively easy to wrangle. Not so for adult females. Females were more vicious than males and one had to have all his senses about him when dealing with dragons, but especially with females.

The sanctuary was located in the Caspian Mountains in Romania. The facility was founded by Harvey Ridgebit, the famous dragonologist. Not only did the sanctuary rescue dragons, it was also responsible for keeping the only census of every dragon alive. Working at the sanctuary was considered a privilege and from the hundreds of witches and wizards who applied for internship, only five were chosen per year. The internship lasted for 15 years and only a small percentage of those interns were asked to remain at the sanctuary as fellows. Charlie had worked at the sanctuary for about ten years and was well on his way to becoming a fellow. Except for playing professional Quidditch, a popular wizard sport, Charlie could not imagine doing anything else but work with dragons. His whole being was revolved around dragons first and his family a close second.

The next two days were spent high in the clouds over the sanctuary. Mark, who was taller and lankier than the muscular Charlie, flew at a lower altitude for fear of being swept off his broom by the strong air currents. He was less comfortable flying than Charlie. The process involved dividing the perimeter in small patches, pointing their wands at the area and exclaiming, "_Revelio!_ " which turned the area a deep magenta. Any weakness in the perimeter would turn from magenta to lime green. The process was tedious and after two days there they found no breaches in the barrier.

On the fourth day, however, they found evidence of a weakening in an area close to the highest mountain range. Charlie used a repairing charm to reinforce the area, and the two finally finished the whole perimeter by the fifth night.

They spent one more night in the mountains and waited for their replacements. Charlie wanted to check the area again that he had repaired to make sure he had not missed a miniscule tear. A very small tear was just as dangerous as a gaping hole and small tears were almost impossible to detect.

"Come on, Charlie," Mark groaned. "You got everything." Mark was anxious to return to his dormitory room and get some restful sleep. He complained about getting broom sores on his backside from spending so much time in the air.

"Just want to make sure, Mark. You got anything better to do?" Charlie noted.

"Yes, I have," he said. "I'm going to have a nice, long, hot bath. Then I'm going drink my weight in fire whiskey, and have my way with Esmeralda." Mark winked.

"Esmeralda is your girlfriend?" Charlie asked incredulously. "I thought you told me she was a hag." Charlie shook his head and laughed.

"Well, she's not a _real_ hag. Besides, she thinks dragon wranglers are macho, and I heard from Rufullio that she's easy. So," he dragged out slowly. His voice trailed off.

"But you're not a wrangler, mate. You're a keeper."

"I know, but Esmeralda doesn't know. Technically, I am a wrangler. Or I could be," said Mark.

Charlie had more experience as a wrangler than Mark. He had been at the sanctuary for 10 years while Mark was going on his second year. The sanctuary directors paired the more experienced keepers with the rookies. Mark and Charlie had worked together since Mark had entered the internship program. They worked together well and Mark admired Charlie's talent with dragons. One day, he told Charlie more than once, I'm going to be as good as you.

They settled into their camp site and Charlie began cooking their supper. After supper, he was going to tackle the daily progress report that they had to turn in by owl the next day. Mark was dreadful at paperwork and always convinced Charlie to take care of it. He didn't mind. Finishing the week-long operation included the wrap-up paperwork. Charlie did not like leaving things unfinished. After he completed the final report, he summoned one of the sanctuary owls and sent off the report.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two--Breach in the Barrier

Early the next morning, Charlie awoke to find Hortensia Zabini looking down on him. Her face six inches from his, squinting. Startled, he instinctively pulled his blanket to his nose.

"Oh, you're up," she said leaning back. "Good." Hortensia wore her black hair pulled severely in a tight bun. She was a pretty black witch, but always looked a little haughty to Charlie.

"Pumpkin juice?" She said as she shoved a tall goblet into his face. Charlie sat up stiffly, trying to get the kinks out of his muscles.

"Thanks," he said, taking the goblet. "I didn't expect you so soon."

Hortensia eyed Charlie closely. "I'm here to join your party."

"What? No, we're coming in today," said Mark, looking alarmed. He had just walked up to the camp site.

"_Were_, Bonds," she emphasized to Mark. "Dragomir read your report about the breach."

"So?" Mark looked positively livid. "We fixed it. Right, Charlie?"

By this time Charlie had gotten to his feet. He stretched his arms over his head. "Yeah, we fixed it," he said, handing the empty goblet back to Hortensia. "I was going to make one sweep before we left this morning, but it's okay."

"Weasley," Hortensia began. "I know that the breach was repaired."

"All right, then," Mark said. "Problem solved."

"Wrong, as usual, Bonds," she said, giving Mark the haughtiest look ever.

Charlie folded his arms across his chest. He got the distinct impression that Hortensia wanted him to ask what was going on. But, suddenly it dawned on him. He grimaced.

"One escaped, didn't it?"

Hortensia spun around and looked at Charlie. She nodded her head. "Yep," she replied. "Well, maybe." She shrugged.

Charlie closed his eyes and sighed. "Shit," he said. "Any idea when?"

Hortensia shook her head. "Dragomir read your report, ordered the standard census, and discovered about forty minutes ago that a Norwegian ridgeback was out of its area. We don't know how long it's been out and Dragomir is not 100 percent sure it left the barrier. A group of wranglers are searching inside now. We're going to search outside just to make sure." She smiled at Mark. "I don't think they think it made it outside."

Mark still looked peeved. "And nobody else can go outside and look?" he asked.

Charlie laughed. "Hey, wranglers are macho, right? Now you can honestly tell Esmeralda you're a wrangler."

"Yes," Mark said, irritably. "But I wanted to get lucky _now. _Do you know how long I've been out here?"

"Why yes, I do," Charlie said, still amused. "About the same amount of time as me."

"Yeah, but you aren't—" He hesitated, looking over at Hortensia. He thought it a good idea not to finish his sentence. As much as he wanted to vent his frustrations, he sure didn't want to irritate his best friend.

"Come on, this will be fun," Charlie said, slapping his friend on the back. "Outside the barrier; looking for a ridgeback. I can't think of anything better, can you?"

"Yeah," Mark said, sullenly. "Spending quality time with Esmeralda." He mumbled.

Charlie laughed. Hortensia pretended she did not hear him. They prepared for the trip outside the barrier.

Leaving the protection of the sanctuary involved undoing several complicated protective charms. Not only did the barrier keep the dragons in, it was also designed to keep the non-magical world out. The three flew out of the barrier and assumed the typical search formation. Again, Charlie flew the highest; Hortensia and Mark flew nap of the earth trying to find the missing Norwegian ridgeback.

Although Hortensia made it sound like the sanctuary did not expect them to find the dragon outside the barrier, Charlie thought differently. He had a feeling that the dragon was loose, but the sanctuary wanted to minimize the potential danger. Nothing like a good old fashion panic to get everyone in an uproar, he thought. Why else would the directors choose him to look for the dragon after coming off of a week of intense duty? He knew that, even as an intern, he was considered as an expert keeper, arguably the best in the wizarding world. What was not clear to Charlie was why it took so long to discover that a dragon was missing. A breach in the barrier alone should not have initiated a search. There was a constant count of the dragons' whereabouts and their activities, including egg population. He was not comfortable with any attempts at cover-up or secrecy. That sounded too much like the old days. But then, maybe someone just made a mistake, and the directors were trying to save the poor soul's job.

There was a possibility that someone intentionally released the dragon outside the protection of the sanctuary. Charlie knew that there were wizards who thought it would be funny to release a half-grown dragon into the muggle population, either as a clever joke, without considering the repercussions, or because of their dislike for anything non-magical.

Whatever the reason, Charlie was happy to be outside for a while. He, like his father, Arthur, was fascinated by the muggle world and he was hoping to get the opportunity to come face-to-face with a real-live muggle.

He knew a few muggles, of course. His brother, Ron's girlfriend, Hermione Granger's parents were muggles. He had met them once but his dad monopolized their time, so he did not have much opportunity to grill them about the muggle world.

Charlie found it ironic that in the wizarding world, he was super cool, even cocky. He was confident, self assured, and most witches thought he was a "hottie." But around muggles, he was extremely shy. He knew his enthusiasm made him appear goofy. Once, when he was younger, Arthur, who worked in the Department that investigated the misuse of muggle artifacts, had taken him to a muggle neighborhood while he was investigating a report of a jinxed water fountain in a muggle shopping center. Surrounded by muggles who found his "trying-to- blend-in-by-wearing (inappropriate) muggle clothes" outlandish, he turned bright red, which made his freckles and ginger hair stand out even worse. He was mortified when a little girl laughed at his appearance. He stammered incoherently when she asked him why he was wearing a hot pink sweater and lederhosen. He never quite got over that incident.

When Charlie got the chance, he was planning to grill Hortensia for any information she may have. Mark was too irritated for any rational conversation yet. He knew Mark would calm down in an hour or two and actually enjoy the adventure as much as him.

"How far are we supposed to go out?" he asked Hortensia finally, as he flew in closer during a sweep. "How many wranglers did they send out?"

"Three other teams." She said. "One team will be meeting up with us this evening as soon as we set up camp."

"How about letting Mark set up the camp site around dusk? He could use the break from flying," Charlie said.

Hortensia nodded in agreement. She flew toward Mark to tell him to start looking for a suitable place to set up a base camp. They would not be returning to the sanctuary until the dragon was located. Charlie had no idea how long that would be. One would think a dragon was easy to spot, but this was not necessarily so. The best time to find a dragon from a great distance was at night. Their dragon fire was easier to spot then. The problem with that was they did not always breathe fire in a regular pattern, so a spotter had to be extremely vigilant in scoping the area from above. Charlie knew that if the dragon was out there, it was only a matter of time and patience before it is caught. Charlie hoped that they would be able to find it before it found any muggles.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three-Base Camp

Charlie, Hortensia and Mark flew for hours before Mark broke away around dusk after spotting a good location for their campsite. Charlie and Hortensia continued the search at a higher altitude, sweeping in area making smaller circles until the evening shadows gave way to the night.

Finally, when they could no longer see anything in front of them, Hortensia held her wand over her head and red stars shot out from its tip. Immediately they saw a burst of green stars from below. She and Charlie took off toward the green stars and found Mark waving to them from a clearing in the trees. He had already set up a pretty nice camp site. There were magicked pots with their contents happily bubbling, and a small roe buck rotating on a spit over a roaring fire.

Charlie landed first and was greeted by members from another team. Four old friends, Rufus Beardsley, Georgiana Watson, Peter Walls, and Adolfus Abbott ran over to him and gave him a slap on the back and a handshake. Charlie had not worked with his old friends in over six years, when they had escorted the four dragons to Hogwarts for the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Adolfus Abbott said, looking up at the night sky. "We saw a pretty bad storm off to the south. It came up suddenly. I don't know whether it will hinder our finding anything out there tonight."

Charlie agreed. "It may drive the dragon. . ."

"_If_ there's one out there," Hortensia interjected.

"Right. It may drive the dragon closer to the ground." He continued.

"Well if it's hungry enough, the weather won't be an influence at all," said Beardsley.

They all nodded in agreement. A dragon was more than anything influenced by the need for food.

"You remember that Norwegian ridgeback we picked up from Hogwarts?" Peter Walls asked Charlie.

"Yeah, the game keeper, Hagrid tried to raise it. You think this one's one of her descendents?" He asked.

Hortensia sighed irritably. "We don't—"

"I know, I know," Charlie interrupted. "But, _if,_" he emphasized. "It could very well be one of Norberta's."

"Could be," agreed Peter. "The missing dragon's only two years old."

"That's good news," said Charlie. "The damage will be more accidental than malicious."

"Still," Georgiana began. She did not finish her sentence, but everyone nodded knowingly. A dragon at any age was not something to be taken lightly.

They agreed to resume the search after they had eaten and rested a bit. Dragons were more active at night, so the odds were in their favor that would be able to spot it later on at night.

After they had feasted on Mark's excellent meal, Rufus brought out a flask of _palinca_, a local plum brandy and passed it around. Charlie eagerly took a large swallow, and spit it out, sputtering and coughing.

"That's disgusting!" he protested. Everyone burst into raucous laughter, pounding him hard on the back. Even Hortensia, who did not smile as easily as the others threw her head back and laughed heartily.

Mark was anxious to try the brew as well. Charlie threw the flask to him. "Good luck, mate," he said, after finally catching his breath. "Just let us know where to deliver your body." He laughed. "That stuff is _lethal._"

By the time the brew made it around the camp fire, everyone had taken a large drink and commented that it was worse than the vilest potion. "Where did you get that stuff?" asked Georgiana, making an awful face.

"Bought it off a muggle farmer. I had heard about it and wanted to try it," Rufus said.

"Well, Georgiana, did it grow hair on your chest?"

Georgiana pulled her robe away from her chest and peaked in. The others roared with laughter again. She turned slightly pink, but then she laughed along with the others.

"Not yet!" she said, looking inside her robe. "Wait a minute…"

The group erupted in loud guffaws. Charlie laughed so hard he fell over backwards, which got the group started up again.

Suddenly, a loud screeching sound pierced the night.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four-Terror in the Night

First, the bus was late. The seven American hiker-tourists had departed Brasov by train for a remote area near Victoria near the Sambata Monastery. When they arrived, the bus that was supposed to take them to their Romanian guide was nowhere to be found. They awaited at the depot until finally, as night fell, the rickety, very old bus pulled into the station belching smoke from the tail pipe. The driver assured the group that the bus was safe and loaded everyone and their luggage onto the bus. "Happens all the time," he waved airily. "No problems. We get there okay. Everything fine."

Andrea looked at her friend, Mindy and reluctantly boarded the bus. She was so tired, and worst case scenario, she could get some sleep on the bus.

Andrea and Mindy joined five other Americans on a nine-day hiking tour of Romania, which included a tour of the famous Dracula's Castle. The final phase of the trip was a four-hour hike to the summit of Romania tallest mountain, Mount Moldoveanu. Miranda Wilson was celebrating her recent divorce and had convinced Andrea to accompany her. Andrea was not an experienced hiker, but decided that it was time for her to have an "adventure."

Andrea Adamson was nurse and the polar opposite of her friend Mindy. They had been best friends since junior high school, despite the fact that no one could figure out how they got along so well. Where Mindy was vivacious, Andrea was demure. She was terribly shy and she had decided that this trip would bring out a new sense of spirit that she knew was inside her. She was still grieving the death of her brother, Andrew, who was killed in an automobile accident three years earlier. She told everyone she was fine, but the pain in her heart for her dear brother was still there.

The other members of the tour included Scott, Zack, Cindy, Jason, and Jamie. They were members of a hiking club who knew Mindy from the gym where she worked as a personal trainer. They usually traveled together and were quite close. Because the group had traveled together frequently and were good friends, Andrea felt somewhat of an outsider. They were not rude and certainly did not exclude her from any activity. They tried to make her feel like part of the group, but Andrea was convinced she would never fit in.

Then, the bus broke down in the middle of nowhere. The bus driver, a rather jovial man who obviously spoke little English, told the group using half-English, half sign language that he would head out to a village and bring back another bus. He assured them that he would return by daybreak. Since they were unfamiliar with the terrain, they should stay put. He finished with, "Everything okay. No problems. I come back," he promised. And he was gone, waving to them as he disappeared into the night.

Before they could make a decision on whether to stand their ground or try to follow him, or even make it to the huts at the base camp, a sudden violent storm blew in from the south. The weather was much too bad and it was way too dark to go anywhere, so they agreed the best thing to do was to wait out the storm.

The rain came down in hard, white sheets and the wind blew so hard, Andrea was afraid the bus would topple over. The rain was cold, and lightning lit up the sky. Andrea had read about the sudden storms coming in and she was grateful that there was no snow. Still, it was getting cold, and the group huddled together to keep warm.

The storm lasted almost two hours before the wind abruptly stopped. By midnight, the sky cleared. The group settled in for a long, uncomfortable night's sleep.

A little while after midnight, the group was awoken to a very loud screeching sound and the distinctive sound of very large wings beating. Still foggy from their sleep, Andrea and Mindy looked at each other, completely bewildered.

"What in the name of all that's holy is that?" Scott asked, straining to look out the tiny window of the bus.

The next sound was a scraping sound, like fingernails on a blackboard. The noise was coming from overhead like an enormous bird that was trying to pick up the bus and carry it off.

The group was terrified. The roof of the bus felt like it was being torn away. Then suddenly, flames shot across the roof. Everyone screamed. No one knew what to do. If they stayed in the bus, they might be burned alive. If they tried to make it outside, whatever it was out there, could easily pick them off one by one.

Suddenly a wall of fire shot out outside the bus and ignited a small bush, engulfing it in blue flames.

Some deranged person had a flame thrower and was trying to either scare the living hell out of them, or was going to kill them all, thought Andrea. None of it made any sense. It was a horrible nightmare and all she wanted to do was wake up.

The clawing continued and so did the flames shooting all around them. A gigantic talon pierced the roof of the bus, and a small part of it was peeled away like a sardine can. Struggling between panic and sheer terror, those closest to the tear scrambled away. The talon reached inside and began grabbing blindly. Scott was grabbed by the shoulder and was being pulled toward the opening. Andrea, Mindy and Zack held on to his body while he screamed in pain. Andrea was afraid that he would be torn in half, but she held on tightly.

Suddenly, from above, they heard a swooping sound that sounded like a flock of birds. Andrea thought she heard human voices and a collective, something that sounded like, "Stupefy!" and green lightning shot out, lighting the sky. The claws released Scott. There was a louder screeching noise and the creature took off. There were human sounds shouting, then just as suddenly as the voices appeared they were gone.

Scott was bleeding profusely. The cut was deep and the edges were turning a blackish color, swelled and angry looking. The others were trying to stop the bleeding, but were still stunned and could barely move.

"What the hell was that?" asked Andrea.

From outside the bus, the seven witches and wizards landed in a cleared area a few yards from the bus. They had managed to make the dragon release its grip on the bus, but the spell was not powerful enough to make it immobile. It was frightened and flew off away from them into the darkness.

As they were about to take off after the dragon, Charlie asked. "What about the muggles? They are going to need help."

"Yes," Georgiana agreed. "It will most likely come back this way, as soon as it realized what happened. A bus full of muggles is a handy food source."

The others nodded in agreement.

Hortensia scratched her forehead thoughtfully. "Okay," she said. "We'll rotate out. Two with the muggles, five in the air. Any volunteers? _Weasley?_" Hortensia knew of Charlie's fascination with muggles.

He smiled and nodded. His ears turned slightly pink. "Sure," he said, in a matter-of-fact voice, trying to hide his distinct pleasure.

"Shocker there," said Georgiana with mock sarcasm. But she smiled at him. "I volunteer," she said. Her tone was light.

Charlie smiled back. He would have rather someone else had volunteered. Georgiana made it no secret that she fancied him. She was always trying to get him alone when they worked together. Charlie was somewhat attracted to her as well, but when he was "on duty" he concentrated on the job. He did not need any distractions.

"I think we need another volunteer," Peter said. "If the dragon comes back, which is likely, they'll need more help until we get back."

Hortensia sighed dramatically. "Okay, okay, okay. We can stand here all night and let the dragon get away or we can go." She looked at the others, sizing them up.

"Bonds," she said, finally. "You stay here, too."

Without allowing any argument or discussion, she mounted her broom and said, "Let's go!"

Mark, Charlie and a smiling Georgiana watched as the rest of the team took off after Hortensia.

"I love the way she says my name," sighed Mark dreamily as he perched is broom on his shoulder.

"Okay, Charlie, let's go rescue your muggles."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five --The Silver Unicorn

There was a sound of something jumping on the top of the bus. Everyone screamed. They looked at the roof and to their utter amazement saw a red hair, freckled faced man, dressed in brown robes, pop his head through the hole in the roof. His hair was long and fell into his face. He pushed his hair aside and smiled at them.

"Everyone all right?" he asked in a very distinct British accent, friendly voice. He grinned down at them.

Everyone looked up at him in stunned silence. Finally, Andrea said, "Yes, I think so." Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. "One man's hurt."

"Okay." His head disappeared from the hole, and he appeared at the bus's door. "Can you open this?" he asked, knocking on the door.

One of the men scrambled to open the door. Charlie stood just inside, while the group stared at him. He stared back.

"Thank God you're here," said Mindy.

"What was that thing?" Zack asked.

"Hmm?" Charlie pursed his lips.

"The thing! The thing that attacked the bus." Andrea and the others pointed to the still smoking roof.

Charlie looked into the faces of the muggles. There was so much fear there. He couldn't find the words to explain that a Norwegian ridgeback had attacked their bus because it was hungry, and unless it found a better choice of food, it would be back.

"Brother?" Andrea began softly. "Can you tell us what that was?"

"You're American, aren't you?" Charlie was so diverted with her accent that he grinned even wider and stuck out his hand.

Andrea automatically took his hand, and noticed that his hand and arm was covered with scars and burns. She snatched her hand back.

"Did you do this?" she asked, pushing his hand away, backing away from him. "Are some kind of sick psycho freak?" Charlie looked back at her with a confused look on his face.

Mindy looked over Charlie's robes. "I have heard about those mad monks who go around torturing people," Mindy said, looking more frightened than ever. "Oh my God! It was you! You burned our bus."

"What? Set your coach on fire? Lord, no, of course not. It was the dragon."

Andrea stared at him. She was still wary, but he looked so sincere and hurt that she would suggest such a horrible thing, that she missed the word dragon.

Mindy, however, did not. "What? Did you say dragon?"

"Dragon?!" the other muggles exclaimed, hysterically.

This was going badly, Charlie thought as the group started backing away from him.

"I'm sorry," Charlie said, sincerely, holding up his hand. "But we are really here to help you. One of you is hurt, and the dragon will probably come back. You all need to calm down. Everything is going to be all right." He flashed what he hoped was a confident smile.

Mark and Georgiana appeared behind him. Charlie turned around to address them.

"They're Americans!" he said, happily. "Can you imagine?"

Georgiana shook her head and patted his shoulder. "Calm down, big boy. You'll frighten them away," she whispered to him. She nodded and smiled at the still stunned group. Her smile was not as warm and reassuring as Charlie's. She did not have the fascination for all things muggle that Charlie did.

"Should we cast a protection spell?" asked Mark in a low whisper so the muggles could not hear.

Charlie and Georgiana both shook their heads. "Won't do any good. Protection spells don't work on dragons. It wouldn't even slow it down. Too powerful. You should know that, Bonds," said Georgiana, disapprovingly.

"Yeah, Bonds," mocked Charlie. "You should know that."

"Excuse me, brothers," said Andrea tentatively.

The three of them turned around. "I'm sorry I accused you of setting the fire," she said quietly. Reality had come crashing around Andrea and her earlier panic seemed to have subsided. She looked so fragile. Charlie's first instinct was to assure her again that everything would be all right.

Scott moaned loudly. Mark, Georgiana and Charlie turned to look at him curiously.

"Oh, right," said Charlie. He walked quickly toward Scott, brushing by Andrea. She smelled good, he thought.

Charlie inspected Scott's shoulder. The claw marks had already inflamed his shoulder, and the open wound was oozing greenish-black goo. It smelled terrible and had already started to swell.

"Am I going to die?" Scott asked weakly.

Georgiana stared at him for a moment. "Well, we're all going to die aren't we?" She said, lightly.

Scott and the rest looked horrified.

Mark and Charlie gave her wide-eyed, imploring looks.

"Oh, sorry," she laughed, realizing what she had said to the frightened muggles. "No, you'll be all right. It looks bad now, but you'll be fine."

Charlie pulled a vial out of his robes. He pulled the stopper and handed it to Scott. "You need to drink this," he said.

Scott took the bottle reluctantly. Eyeing the bottle suspiciously, he wasn't quite sure if he trusted them enough to drink the potion. He sniffed the bottle, expecting to smell something foul. Instead, the liquid smelled like chocolate and something else, he couldn't identify.

"Chocolate?" Scott asked.

Charlie nodded. "Among other things. Go ahead. It'll help with the pain. Honestly."

Scott tilted the bottle and took a long drink. It was chocolate and probably some sort of liquor. Not bad, he thought.

The pain in his shoulder began to subside almost immediately. The wound still looked nasty, but at least the pain was gone.

"Keep the bottle and use it whenever the pain comes back," Charlie told him. "I've got a salve for you, but I wanted to stop the pain first."

"Thank you, brother," Scott said, settling back in the seat, getting comfortable.

"This kind of wound heals slowly," Charlie said. "It'll get worse before it gets better. Have you ever been bitten by a dog?" he asked, pouring a small amount of the salve directly on the inflamed wound."Much worse than a dog bite. The claws have a poison in them. Could be fatal without the potion."

Scott shook his head. The smell was nothing like the soothing tonic. It smelled bad.

"Can I help?" Andrea asked. Charlie smiled at her, hesitated for a moment and handed her the jar of salve. He brushed his hand against hers and quickly pulled away.

"Sure, here you go. Don't use too much," he cautioned. "It only takes a wee bit."

Charlie couldn't understand why he felt irritated that the woman wanted to apply the salve to the injured man. Why should he care who did it? She was probably his wife or girlfriend. If anyone else had offered to help, he would have been happy to turn over the stinky job.

Andrea sniffed the bottle and wrinkled her nose. "What's in this?"

Charlie's eyes danced with mischief. "A little of this, a little of that. A bit of the hair of the dog, or in this case, scales of the dragon, so to speak. I doubt if you've ever heard of any of the ingredients. It's a homeopathic remedy the fellows at the sanctuary came up with. Don't worry; your husband is going to be all right." He spoke very quietly, almost whispering as if he did not want anyone else to hear.

Andrea made an odd face, like a grimace. "He's not my husband," she said quickly.

Charlie smiled again. "Oh." He sounded quite pleased. "Well then, your boyfriend?"

Andrea blushed, and smiled shyly and shook her head. "I'm a nurse. I take care of people who are sick or injured. It's kind of my job."

Charlie's smiled broadened. "Oh, well then. You're like a healer then?" He asked.

"Not really, I'm more of a care giver, I guess." She followed Charlie's instructions and took care not to apply too much of the salve. The smell was completely foreign. There was nothing recognizable in its fragrance at all. "Are you sure this stuff works?"

Charlie nodded. "We use it all the time."

Andrea finished applying the salve and wrapped Scott's wounds. "He's lucky it didn't hit an artery," she said.

"Yes," Charlie agreed. "So, tell me about all the things you use. Do you actually sew people up? And what's that thing that you stick in people. You can actually tell the body's temperature. Amazing."

Andrea looked at Charlie incredulously. "You don't go to the doctor often, do you?"

Charlie blushed slightly. He was letting his enthusiasm get the better of him. "Sorry," he said. "Do you like being a, a, what did you call it?"

"A nurse," she said, patiently "It's a wonderful job. Very hectic. I work in an emergency room. Very busy."

Noting the blank look on Charlie's fact, Andrea explained, "An emergency room is where people go to see a doctor right away, like if they've been in an accident, having chest pains, cut themselves. Things like that. We take care of those people when they can't go to their regular doctors."

"Brilliant. You use tools and instruments and stuff? My dad was attacked by a snake once, and he had _stitches_." He said, proudly. "My mum was furious." He added, recalling his mother's reaction.

Charlie stopped himself before he got too carried away. The look on her face was incredulous.

"It must have been a very big snake," she commented.

"Oh, it was. He's all right now, though." He said nodding.

Charlie felt like a complete idiot. Why did he have to sound like a complete dolt? She thinks I'm a complete ass. Just shut up, Charlie, he thought. How is she going to think I'm cool if I act this foolish?

Andrea smiled. That was so sweet, she thought. Her face softened.

Charlie gave her the most sexy-shy smile she had ever seen."You're very pretty," he said. The charm he used on witches was in high gear.

His charm was not wasted on Andrea. She suddenly felt very shy and self conscious. She pulled a strand of hair behind her ear and drew her face closer to his, so no one could hear. "I didn't think you were allowed to flirt."

"Am I flirting? Is that what you call it?" Charlie whispered back, grinning. His voice was low and very sexy.

"Weasley," Georgiana interrupted. "How's it going?" Georgiana looked irritated. She crossed her arms over her chest.

Charlie looked up. He blushed furiously and pulled back from Andrea. "Yeah," he said. "He's looking much better."

"Hmm," she deadpanned.

Andrea handed the bottle back to Charlie and got up and walked over to her friend, Mindy.

"That is the most girlish-looking man I have ever seen," she said of Georgiana.

"You think they're a couple?" Mindy asked eyeing Georgiana closely.

"God, I hope not," Andrea said with a little sigh. "It would be my luck, though, a gay monk."

Mindy laughed

"He was flirting with me." She looked over at Charlie who had turned his attention to the other passengers, ensuring that they were not harmed.

Andrea realized at that moment that she was no longer terrified. He had calmed her and reassured her. She was beginning to feel safe.

"So, brother," Mindy said to Mark, who was standing around, looking totally lost. "How long have you been with the monastery?"

Mark looked at her blankly. "I've been with the sanctuary for two years."

"Taken your final vows yet?" she winked.

The more the muggle talked to him, the more confused he became. He had no idea what she was talking about, but it appeared that the muggle knew about the sanctuary or she wouldn't be asking such direct questions. Final vows? He wondered.

"Will you excuse me for a minute?" Mark asked politely, backing away from Mindy.

Smiling weakly at Mindy, Mark backed over to Charlie who was surreptitiously examining the muggle objects on the bus. He picked up a curling iron that had fallen out of a bag during the dragon's attack. He looked at it intensely. Dad would love this, he thought, fingering the electrical plug.

"Charlie?" Mark whispered.

"Yeah," he replied, thinking seriously of ways he could stick the what-ever-it-was-thingy in his robes.

"What are final vows?" Mark asked.

Charlie shrugged. "Don't know. Maybe something to do with getting married? Why?"

"That blonde headed muggle asked me how long I've been at the sanctuary and if I've taken my final vows."

"What'd you say?" Charlie asked, picking up another object. He had no idea that he was holding a cell phone.

"I didn' say nothin'." He shook his head. "Didn' know what to say."

Charlie held up the cell phone. "Do you know what this is?" he asked Mark.

Again, Mark shrugged and shook his head. "Why don't you ask the muggle you've been flirting with?"

Charlie's ears turned pink again. "I haven't been…" He looked into Mark's face and stopped talking. "Okay, you're right. But she is pretty."

Outside the bus, a shining silver light appeared. It landed in a clearing near the bus. The muggles gasped as it took the shape of a mythical unicorn. They were awestruck and stared at the light. Georgiana saw it and went outside. The unicorn pawed the ground, and Hortensia's voice came out of the unicorn.

"No luck yet," it said. "You stay there for the rest of the night and we'll relieve you tomorrow morning."

Just as silently as it appeared, the creature was gone.

"They're not coming back tonight," said Georgiana to Mark and Charlie when she stepped back inside the bus.

"I figured that," said Charlie. "We'll take turns standing guard. We can sleep in shifts."

Charlie motioned to the roof and they went outside again. Up on the roof, Charlie pulled out his wand and said, "_Lumos!_" A light appeared on the end of his wand, creating enough light for them to see the damage done to the bus. He pointed the wand at the biggest hole and said, "_Reparo!"_ There was a scraping noise and the hole in the bus sealed itself.

_"_That'll work for now. We'll figure out what to say to the muggles later. I'll take the first watch. You two get some rest."

Neither Mark nor Georgiana argued with Charlie. It was very late, and they were tired.

They went into the bus and found empty seats and lay down. The muggles had turned off the light source and the bus was quiet and dark except for Scott's labored breathing. Georgiana rose and went over to him. Turning her back on the group, she produced a small blue round ball of flame and made it hover over her out stretched hand. Looking around, she found a clear plastic water bottle and put the flame inside making a nice warm light.

Holding the light over Scott, she examined his wounds. It was still inflamed, but she could tell that it was getting better. Scott opened his eyes and smiled at Georgiana.

"Drink some more of the potion," she said, handing him the vial that had fallen on the floor.

Obediently, Scott took a long swallow. He mumbled something that sounded something like, "Chocolate." Closing his eyes, he went back to sleep.

Georgiana got up and walked down the aisle of the bus. Everyone was asleep except for the muggle that spoke to Charlie. She was hugging her knees and rested head against them. When Georgiana passed her, she reached out and touched her robe lightly.

"Brother," she said. "What was that bright light thing outside?"

Georgiana ignored her question. "You need to rest," she said curtly, as she continued walking down the aisle. She sat down in a seat next to the driver's seat, pulled her robes around her and went to sleep.

Two hours later Mark stretched and scratched his head sleepily. Cracking his knuckles, he rose quickly. He walked over to the sleeping Georgiana, who snapped her eyes open.

"I'll take the next watch," Mark said, yawning. "You go back to sleep."

Georgiana pulled her robe tighter. "Check on the muggle," she mumbled.

Mark straightened up and walked over to Scott, who was restless, but asleep.

Outside of the bus, Mark stretched again and stiffly walked around the clearing. He walked into the trees to relieve himself and when he returned, Charlie was standing, wand at the ready.

"You scared me, mate," he said, laughing nervously. "I didn't see you come out."

"Ever vigilant," Mark quoted, yawning again. "My turn," he said. "Did you see anything?"

"Dead, burned, half-eaten body about a half-mile down that road," he pointed toward a dirt trail. "Not a pretty sight."

"What did you do with the body?" Mark asked.

"Well, I couldn't just leave it there, could I? I buried him. Did the others say anything about a missing person?"

Mark shook his head. "Not that I heard. You were the one they talked to."

Charlie nodded thoughtfully. "I'll ask," he said, making his way into the bus.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six—The Confession

Charlie tried not to make any noise as he slid into a seat across from Georgiana. He looked at her. She was snoring softly. He grabbed a canvas bag from the floor and used it as a makeshift pillow. It was very quiet. The injured muggle was asleep and so were the others. Now if he could get some sleep, he thought, but his mind was working overtime. He was thinking about the dragon, the injured man, and, why, he did not know, the young woman. There was something in her soft determination that struck him hard. She was pretty, but it was more than that. There was a sadness in her eyes, like she, too, had lost a loved one.

Punching the bag to make it pliable, Charlie settled in and closed his eyes, willing himself to go to sleep.

A few minutes later, he heard a noise from the back of the bus, and sprang up. The woman was coming toward him quietly, but tripped over the debris on the floor.

"Great," she said.

Looking at Charlie, she grimaced. "Sorry, brother, did I wake you up?"

Charlie rubbed his stiffening neck and shook his head. "All right, then?" he asked. Charlie sat up and motioned for her to sit down.

She took the seat behind him. "I couldn't sleep," she said. "There's so much going round in my head."

"I understand. I imagine you've had quite a night, yes?"

She nodded. She looked like there was something she wanted to ask him.

"I imagine you have a lot of questions, don't you?" Charlie smiled reassuringly at her.

Again, she nodded.

"Did someone leave the bus before?" he asked suddenly. He had almost forgotten to ask about the man he had found in the woods.

Andrea nodded. "The bus driver. I thought maybe he had told you to come here. He's coming back in the morning with another bus."

Charlie didn't say anything. He didn't want to tell her that the man was dead. The muggles had experienced a great deal tonight and he did not want to add to the already confused and frightened group.

"May I ask you another question?" Charlie asked, politely.

"Of course," she said leaning toward him so she could hear his soft whisper.

"My mates and I were wondering why you call us brother. Is that an American thing?" He settled in closer to her. "Do you call girls, brother as well? Because Georgiana is a little peeved. Brother, where I'm from means a boy."

He was so sincere in explaining that he did not notice the expression on her face.

"She's a girl?" she asked, pointing to Georgiana. "That's a relief. I thought she was the most girlish-man I've ever seen." Her expression changed to complete puzzlement.

"I thought you were monks from the monastery," she said, honestly. "You are wearing brown robes, and the monastery isn't too far from here, I think. I just assumed… You're not a monk?"

Charlie wasn't exactly sure what a monk was. He was sure he had heard the name somewhere, but not quite sure where.

"What's a monk?" he asked sincerely.

"Are you serious?" When he nodded, she went on. "It's a religious person in an order. You know, devoted to the Church. They take vows of poverty, celibacy… " her voice trailed off.

"Oh," Charlie said, nodding. Then he shook his head vigorously. "Definitely not. Well, I can relate to the poverty vow thing. Not that I took a vow, it's just is turning out that way." He smiled generously. "And you thought Georgiana was a man." He let out a snort of a laugh, then held his nose and laughed again.

Georgiana turned over in her sleep.

Andrea looked sheepish. "Sorry."

They looked at Georgiana and saw that she was still asleep.

"What's your name?" he asked her. "My name's Weasley. Charlie Weasley." He held out his hand. She took it and smiled shyly.

"A pleasure," she said, shaking his hand. "I'm Andrea. Andrea Adamson."

"The pleasure's mine," he said, holding on her hand, giving it a soft squeeze before releasing it.

"And, what, pray tell, are you doing in the middle of Romania?" He asked.

She settled back in her seat. "Vacation. Never been over here before. Ha! I've never been anywhere. My friend, Mindy talked me into it. She's an experienced hiker. Her friends asked her to join them, and well, she just got divorced, and she talked me into it. And," she said putting her hands out, "here I am."

Andrea looked at him. "What about you? What are you on a bus in the middle of Romania?" She asked.

Charlie pulled his leg on the seat of the bus and pondered what he wanted to tell her.

"I'm here to rescue you. That's what I do."

Suddenly Andrea was serious. "What happened to us tonight? I mean this can't be real, can it?"

Charlie nodded. "It's very real. I work at a dragon sanctuary. It's a very well kept secret. One of the dragons got loose somehow and we were sent to find it."

Andrea shook her head. "There are no such things as dragons," she said, looking into his eyes.

"Not in your world," he began. "But there are in mine."

"What do you mean?" she asked. They stared into each other's eyes. There was nothing in Charlie's eyes that told her he was lying or trying to trick her. His eyes were warm and sincere.

"My world is," he hesitated. "Not yours."

"I don't understand." She reached across the back of the seat and touched his hand.

"No, I don't expect you would. My world is magic. I'm a wizard."

She looked at him blankly. She shook her head. "I feel that this is all a dream. I'm going to wake up and none of this will have happened." She smiled at him.

Charlie sighed. "Unfortunately," he said in a very low voice. "That's part's true." Charlie knew that when it was all over, the muggles would be given memory charms to alter their recollection of what had happened to them. It saddened him that she would not remember him.

Charlie explained all about wizards and his world. He told her that the Ministry of Magic (_You have your own government?) _worked very hard to keep the non-magical world from finding out about their world and the magical creatures, such as dragons, hippogriffs, (_A what?),_ unicorns, and of course, quidditch, the wizard's sport. He tried to explain the rules to her, but she looked at him blankly. Finally, he said, "It's kind of like your soccer, only with four balls, and it's played in the air and there are three goals."

Andrea saw that he was clearly fascinated with the sport. She couldn't picture how it was played. "I guess you have to see it played," she said.

He nodded. "It's exciting to watch," he told her.

"What about the silver thing I saw outside the bus? That was magical? It looked like a unicorn."

Charlie nodded. "It's a _patronus_. One of the other dragon keepers sent us a message. That's what we use to communicate. Well, that and owls." Charlie said brightly. He didn't think Andrea was ready for owls just yet.

"The _patronus," _she looked at him as she pronounced the word. He nodded.

"Are the patronus, uh, patronuses patroni always unicorns?" When she got the question

out of her mouth, she thought she sounded very stupid, but Charlie smiled at her, a little surprised that she would even think of such a question.

"No, that's a very good question. They are unique to the witch or wizard. My _patronus _is an eagle."

"Why? Is there any significance to the patronus?" Andrea was fascinated. Dreaming or not, conversation with this imaginary man was very interesting, she thought.

"I've always love creatures, magical and non-magical, especially flying creatures. When I was a little boy, my brother, Bill and I rescued a white tailed eagle, they're very rare, and it sort of stuck. We scared the stuffing out of our mum, but you know how that goes." He rolled his eyes. Andrea nodded. She understood parents very well.

"I was always bringing animals home. I was, and still am, fascinated by them"

"What about dragons?"

"I've always been fascinated by dragons. That's why I'm here. It's got to be the hardest and the best job in the world. Dragons have little pea sized brains. All they do is eat, fight, and make baby dragons. They are the coolest creatures. Scary as hell, unpredictable, older ones are malicious, juveniles are just stupid, but dangerous. Females are the worst. And they are motivated only by instinct. They're damned clever, too. " He watched her looking at her and he blushed lightly.. "Sorry," he said. "I get a little carried away sometimes." He shrugged.

"It's fascinating. Are there dragons in America?" she asked.

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, a few. There is a sanctuary in America. Even more of a secret than the one here. I'd love to visit it some day. It's in the western part of America somewhere. A friend of mine spent some time there, but this was before I started working here."

They talked for the next two hours about everything and nothing. Andrea told Charlie how she missed her brother, and he told her about Fred. He didn't go into the exact details of how Fred was killed, but Andrea understood how close he was to his family and how Fred's death had affected all of them. Andrea would never understand the defeat of the Dark Lord or the many differences between her and Charlie.

He told her about his father and how much he loved muggles and that he shared that fascination and love for muggles.

"What are muggles?" she asked.

"It's what we call non-magical folk."

Andrea closed her eyes dreamily and rested her head on the cushioned seat behind her.

"I wish this was real," she whispered, wiping a tear from her eye.

"Tell me all about wizards and magic," she pleaded. "And when I wake up tomorrow, maybe I will remember." Andrea opened her eyes again. "I will remember you," she said. "I promise." She raised her head off the seat and sat up moving closer to him."I want to remember you."

Charlie leaned in and kissed her. And it was heaven. She responded to him, drawing him closer. She smelled wonderful and she was soft and eager for his kiss. He could get lost in her and be blissfully happy.

When the kiss finally ended, they looked at each other for the longest time, still holding on to each other. Neither one wanted the moment to end.

The idea that he could fall this quickly for her, a muggle, was impossible and at the same moment, it was the most logical thing in the world. His family and friends wondered when or if he would settle down. In an instant, he was believing that a future with Andrea was a real possibility.

What am I doing? thought Charlie. This is a bad idea. Reality hit him. Hard.

"What are you doing?" said a voice from behind him. It was Georgiana. Her voice sounded hurt and angry.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven—The Dragons Returns

Andrea pulled away quickly. She put her fingers on her lips. She was embarrassed and her emotions were all confused. She got up without looking at Charlie or Georgiana and hurried back to where her friend was sleeping.

Georgiana repeated the question. "What do you think you were doing?" she asked.

"Well," he drawled, "Until you interrupted us, I was kissing a very beautiful woman," he said calmly. "Something that is obviously none of your business."

"That was wrong, and you know it," snapped Georgiana.

"Thanks for the advice, mum." He said sarcastically. Charlie was as irritated as Georgiana was hurt.

Georgiana was determined not to let Charlie know how much she wished it were her he was kissing. She stiffened. "You know the muggles are off limits. Stay with your own kind." She spat.

He ignored her. "Isn't it your turn to guard the perimeter?" he asked flatly.

She grabbed her broom and stormed outside. He watched her go and then fell back into the seat. He rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. "Oh great," he said and gave a little laugh. That was real smart, he thought.

She was right, he knew, but he didn't want to admit it. There was no future with this or any other muggle. They were from different worlds. He knew that witches and wizards sometimes married muggles, but it was never easy to do. The worlds were so different. He wasn't sure he could live in the muggle world. He was fascinated by them, and how they survived without magic, but in his world, magic was all he knew.

He started thinking what a future that included Andrea would be like. He shook his head, and thought, I'm being ridiculous. She was a very nice woman, who more than likely did not share the same feelings that came over him so suddenly. He had no idea why he reacted so powerfully to her. She was pretty. Her hair was short, golden brown and very curly, and she was tall and slender. She had beautiful soft blue eyes, that seem to reflect a goodness and kindness he rarely saw in other women.

Charlie lay back down on the seat, determined to get some sleep, but Mark rushed in grinning and sat down next to him. Charlie didn't say anything. He looked at Mark, who was still grinning, and shook his head.

"_What_?!" he said gruffly.

Mark shrugged smugly and shook his head. "Nothing."

"Leave it alone," warned Charlie.

"Oy, Georgiana is really pissed."

"Ya think?" Charlie asked sarcastically.

"What'd you go snogging that muggle for?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Charlie said. He smiled at Mark, finally. "Stepped right into to that, didn't I, mate?"

Mark slapped his friend on the back. "Yep."

"How long before the whole wizarding world knows? I expect a howler from my mum any minute." Charlie said.

Mark threw back his head and laughed loudly. Several of the muggles stirred. "Sorry," he said, lowering his voice. "I don't blame you, mate," he said. "She is very pretty."

Charlie nodded in agreement. "Incredible kisser." He sighed as he looked over the seats toward of the back of the bus to see if he could see her. She was crouched down with her friend, who had her hand on her shoulder patting her shoulder in a reassuring manner.

"Well," said Charlie. "The good news is that she thinks this is all a dream."

Suddenly, Georgiana stuck her head into the bus. "It's back," she shouted.

Both Mark and Charlie jumped up. Drawing their wands, they started outside. Charlie turned around to face the muggles. "Everyone, stay quiet and don't move! Stay low," he warned and he headed for the door of the bus.

Georgiana had sent her _patronus_ to the other teams for their help. It would only be a few moments until the teams arrived. With wands ready, Georgiana, Mark, and Charlie stood together separating the dragon from the bus full of muggles. They were able to keep the dragon at bay with various stunning spells. The idea was to throw out the hexes staccato-like, not giving the dragon a chance to take flight or breathe fire. It wouldn't stop it completely, but it would slow it down.

It was evident that the dragon was getting frustrated because it couldn't get to its food source. The more spells it was hit with, the more determined it was to get to the bus. It brought down its huge tail, uprooting small trees and bushes. Its tail came dangerously close to Charlie, who jumped out of the way of the steel-like scaly tail. The tip of the tail brushed across his shoulder, barely missing his head. Flesh was torn from his shoulder as he rolled out of the dragon's path.

The pain was incredible, but he did not stop casting the stunning spells. "Stupefy! Stupefy!" he yelled through clenched teeth, causing streams of light to shoot out of his wand.

The muggles watched the incredible battle from inside the bus. They cheered as the wizards aggressively fought the dragon, shooting light from the end of their wands and yelling hexes. They were so brave and unyielding.

The dragon sat up on its hind legs and batted the light with its arm-like front legs. It tried to move forward to the bus, but the spells drove it back.

The three were getting tired, but did not waver. The dragon was able to blow one small stream of fire at the three, but all it did was singed the Mark's and Georgiana's robes and catch the hem of Georgiana's robe on fire. Then Charlie threw a water spell at the dragon, which extinguished the fire before it could gain momentum to produce a larger fire.

Just when it seemed the dragon was gaining strength, there was a huge, "Crack," and eight witches and wizards apparated, with wands drawn, behind the dragon and immediately joined the three with stunning spells. Eleven wizards were too much for the dragon to fight off, and it began to weaken. Strong nets appeared from the end of the wands, and finally the dragon was immobilized, wrapped in a cocoon of strong material, unable to free itself. The dragon struggled to free its mouth, wings and arms, but it was tightly trussed. It managed a muffled screech as it tried to remove the binding material.

The wizards cheered the dragon was subdued. They looked at the people who were staring at them and they raised their fists in triumph, punching the air and whooping loudly.

Two of the wizards conjured up a device that injected the dragon with a strong sedative. Within minutes the dragon lay fast asleep.

"That wasn't so hard," Charlie said. His friends laughed and slapped him on his back until they realized he was wounded.

"It's nothing," he said as Hortensia pushed up the sleeve of his robe, exposing the cut. "Just don't tell my mum, all right?"

She looked at the wound closely. "Good, not a claw or bite. Looks like the tail got you. You're lucky." Hortensia produced a bottle of dittany from inside her robes.

"Sit down," she ordered. She started pouring the liquid on his wound. "That'll keep it from getting infected," she said.

Dawn was just breaking, and light was streaming through the trees. The witches and wizards stood near the sleeping dragon, congratulating themselves on the capture.

"How are the muggles doing?" Hortensia asked.

"You better ask Charlie," Georgiana said coldly. "I'm sure he knows."

Mark threw a look at Charlie, who shook his head.

"OK. Charlie?" Hortensia said, ignoring Georgiana's sarcastic tone.

"There was one dead and one injured. The bus driver was killed after he left the bus for help. One of the muggles was badly clawed. We gave him remedies and he's doing better." Charlie concluded.

"Brilliant," Beardsley, Abbott, and Walls said simultaneously.

"It could have been a lot worse," said one of the other wizards that apparated with the others. "We'd better get this baby back to the sanctuary where he belongs."

With that, three of the wizards hoisted the dragon on the carrier they had produced and took off.

"Great job fighting off that ridgeback," Hortensia said. "Weasley how's your arm?"

"I'll be all right." He said, bravely.

Beardsley looked at the wound, poked it and nodded. "It'll make a nice scar. Veelas dig scars," he said, lightly and Charlie and Mark laughed.

Charlie swiped at the blood on his arm as he stepped inside the bus. The muggles were staring at them. Andrea had a terrified look on her face when she saw the blood on his arm. She rushed to him, ignoring the hostile look on Georgiana's face and the confused look on Hortensia's.

"She's a healer," Charlie explained to Hortensia quickly. Hortensia nodded, and then smiled.

"Is this your muggle, Weasley?" she asked airily.

Charlie turned to Mark and said, "What'd I tell you?"

"You'll need stitches," Andrea said, examining the wound. "If you have a needle and thread, I can sew it for you." Her fingers moved absently over the other scars on his shoulder. He had a tattoo of a strange creature on his chest near the wound.

"Cool," said Charlie enthusiastically.

Hortensia looked horrified. "That's barbaric," she winced.

"No, it's all right."Charlie said, his eyes shining brightly. "Would you really?" From seemingly out of thin air, Charlie produced a hooked needle and thread and gave it to her.

"I need to sterilize the needle. Do you have a match or lighter?" The others had a puzzled look on their faces. "Alcohol, then?" she asked.

Peter produced a flask of fire whiskey. "Medicinal purposes," he said quickly to the skeptical face of Hortensia.

Georgiana glowered at Andrea as she sterilized the needle and thread and sat Charlie down. She poured some of the fire whiskey on the open wound. Charlie gasped in surprise at the burn.

"This may hurt a little," she said calmly.

Charlie winced and squirmed as the needle pierced his skin.

"Stay still," she whispered. "Don't be such a baby."

Mark, Peter, Hortensia, Adolfus, and Rufus, who were watching in fascination as Andrea sewed Charlie's skin together, roared with laughter.

"It hurts," he said defensively, but he did not move after that. Every time the needle pierced his skin, he gritted his teeth.

It took her about five minutes to sew the big gash together. She bit the thread off and lingered for a moment, breathing in the scent of him. She closed her eyes. Charlie touched her affectionately on her cheek.

"Thank you," he whispered softly.

She finished by pouring more of the fire whiskey on a small piece of cloth she had ripped from her shirt tail and cleaned the blood from his shoulder.

"They'll need to come out in about two weeks. Just cut them out, ok?" she said professionally. "It's a very simple procedure."

The others did not seem to notice the intimate look between Charlie and Andrea,

they were too busy reacting to the stitches. Everyone except Georgiana, who snorted loudly and stormed off.

"Good as new," she said, patting the bandage she had just placed on the wound. "I was so frightened. But you and your friends are so brave." She handed the needle back to Charlie, who pulled her close and kissed her. "Thank you," he whispered and she walked outside the bus for a breath of air.

Everyone had to examine the stitches. Beardsley ripped the bandage off and looked at it appreciatively.

"Never saw anything like it. Did it hurt?" said Hortensia, leaning in closely to examine the stitches, poking it.

"Nah," Charlie said bravely, but he nodded swiftly at the other men.

"Well I don't know why you didn't just magic it closed. That took an awful long time. The scar is going to be worse." She shook her head, disapprovingly while the men nodded enthusiastically. "Men," she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Do you think she'd do me?" asked Mark. Charlie stared at him crossly, until he quickly added, "Give me stitches, I mean." His face turned a deep scarlet. "I meant stitches." He stuttered, pointing to a tiny wound on his hand.

Everyone except Charlie roared with laughter, slapping him on the back.

"Everyone's going to want them now," Peter predicted. "You're a trend setter, Weasley."

Finally, Hortensia said, "This has been fun and all, but we still have work to do." The group quickly got quiet. She looked at Charlie significantly. He nodded, understanding.

"The hard part's going to be coming up with a memory," Hortensia said, thoughtfully.

No, thought Charlie. The hard part is her not remembering me. He looked out the window at Andrea who stood alone, gazing down the dirt road where he had found the bus driver.

"Any ideas?" she asked the group.

"Watson?" she asked Georgiana. Georgiana joined the rest of the group. Her mood was less somber now that the muggles' memories would be altered. Now she would have her chance with Charlie.

"Bus crash, driver's killed, one injured." She shrugged."Pretty typical, I guess."

Hortensia nodded. "We have to recover the body. Where'd you bury it, Weasley?"

"Down that road," he pointed toward the road where Andrea stood. "Not too far."

"It's a very remote area; it may take them a while to be found." She nodded. "That'll work."

She slapped her hands together. "Well, let's get a move on." She said, enthusiastically.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight—The Memory Charm

Charlie walked outside to where Andrea was standing. She smiled when he approached her.

"Helluva fight, huh?" he asked her.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "That was incredible. I keep telling myself that this isn't real, but it feels so real. It's crazy, and makes absolutely no sense, but," She faced him.

"I want to believe in magic and dragons and unicorns, and," she paused. "You," she said.

He took her hand and kissed it gently. "I am real," he said. He pulled her close and kissed her. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her like he would hold her forever.

Finally, he pulled away. "I have to go soon."

She wiped the tears from her eyes. "Will I ever see you again?" she asked, quietly.

Sadly, he shook his head. "I'm sorry."

She thought seriously of begging him to stay with her, but she realized that he never would. He belonged in his world, and she in hers.

"Kiss me good-bye," she said softly as she lifted her face to his. He kissed her. Her lips were soft and tears fell freely.

For one instant, Charlie believed that the memory charm wasn't necessary. Muggles could handle the wizarding world. That instant passed quickly into reality. There were so many reasons why the memories had to be altered and only one why it shouldn't.

When Charlie rejoined the group, they were formulating the details of the memory charm. The plan was rather complicated. The driver had to have been not only killed, but burned, and half eaten. Adolfus said he could try a repairing spell to make the driver to appear not so _chewed_. They agreed that the front of the bus had caught fire when it crashed, and Scott would have had to have been sitting up front and gone through a window.

"Why don't we just erase their memories and let them figure it out for themselves?" Georgiana asked, peevishly, as they discussed each complicated step.

"Yeah, there's no reason for them not to come up with a better story that we could concoct. Keep the driver buried, and Scott injured but healing. It'll be a mystery for them to wonder about," Peter said considering Georgiana's idea.

Hortensia pondered the idea in her head for a moment and shrugged. "Hell of a mystery, but probably easier than the whole bus crash scenario. Faster, too. What do you think, Weasley?"

"Sure, why not? It makes better sense," he agreed. He was quiet for the rest of the meeting. Georgiana gave him furtive glances, but he did not response. He nodded and agreed when asked, but, for the most part, he was quiet.

Finally, Hortensia slapped her thighs, and jumped up.

"Beardsley, your lot can go ahead. Thanks for your help. Weasley, you and Bonds can take off as well. I can take care of this."

Mark was more than ready to go. This had been his first real wrangle, and he was excited to get back to Esmeralda and brag about the ridgeback's capture.

Charlie hesitated for a moment, but Hortensia looked into his eyes knowingly and said nothing. Finally, he nodded and walked away with broom slung across his shoulder and met up with Mark and the others.

They shook hands, and talked about meeting up later that evening to celebrate. Rufus, Adolfus, Georgiana, and Peter mounted their brooms and took off. Mark and Charlie watched them as they flew off into the west. Charlie didn't want to fly with Georgiana. He didn't want to look at her.

It had been over a week since Charlie and Mark had been home. Both men were tired and in dire need of a bath and a hot meal. When they got to the common room of their dormitory, several wizards were waiting for them to hear about their adventure. Mark was anxious to tell them how he and the others had wrangled the ridgeback. Charlie, who was equally enthusiastic about his adventures, let Mark do all the talking. Neither mentioned the muggles, except the driver and the one who had been injured.

"But, look at Charlie," exclaimed Mark, "The muggle healer _sewed his arm_!" He said excitedly.

Charlie pushed up the sleeve of his robe and showed the admiring wizards the stitches.

They oohed and ahhed. They agreed that that was the coolest thing they had ever seen, and were jealous.

"I bet it hurt," said Charlie's friend, Michael. "Can you imagine sewing your skin together?" He shuttered.

"It stung a bit," he confessed. "It felt like kitten claws piercing the skin. Makes the hair stand up on the back of your neck. Once it done, it's okay. The string has to be taken out in two weeks, Andrea, uh, the healer said."

"Well, I admire your guts," Michael praised him.

The rest of the afternoon was spent showing off his stitches until he finally got tired and told Mark to shut up about the damn stitches. He got tired of being prodded and poked.

He planned to join his friends that evening, but first he wanted to send an owl to his brother, Bill and tell him all about the dragon, the stitches, and the muggle. He wasn't sure how much he wanted to tell him about Andrea. There wasn't any point in thinking about her. He needed to move on. He would never see her again. It was as simple as that. By this time, she didn't know he existed. Georgiana was right; he didn't belong in Andrea's world.

He left the common room and made his way to his and Mark's sleeping quarters. He sat down at the writing table, got out parchment and a pen and ink bottle. He hesitated for a moment and began to write:

"'Dear Bill,

I hope this owl finds you and Fleur and Victoire well.

This week, a dragon got loose outside the sanctuary and I helped capture him. It was a Norwegian ridgeback, only a baby, though, so it wasn't hard at all to find or capture. It only took three hours to wrangle him. It tore up a bus, scared the muggles, and killed the driver, and injured another passenger. The passengers were Americans. I got clipped by the dragon's tale. Nothing serious, really. One of the muggles, Andrea, was a nurse, that's like a healer. She sewed up my arm like when dad got those stitches after the snake bite. Oh, don't tell mum, she'll go ballistic. Just tell her that I'm all right. Hortensia Zabini worked on the memory charm. We decided not to plant a memory, just have them try to figure out what happened. Now that I think about it that seems inconsiderate. Andrea and the others were very nice.

Tell everyone hello and I will write soon.

Always,

Charlie'"

He read the letter over, sealed it and walked to the owlery. He attached the letter to his owl and sent it off. By the time he returned to the dorm, Mark was looking for him.

"Still want to go out?" Mark asked.

"Yeah, of course, why?" he said, looking puzzled.

Mark shook his head. "No reason. I just –"he stopped short when he saw the look on Charlie's face.

"Nothing," he finished. He shrugged uncomfortably

Charlie let it drop. "I'll be ready in a half hour."

That evening, Mark and Charlie met up with several friends at a near-by pub in the wizard section of Brasov. They drank, and laughed and recounted the adventure of the dragon's capture. Charlie was back to his old self. He felt comfortable with his friends. This is where he belonged.

Esmeralda and another witch from the town joined the party. Mark spent the evening trying to impress her with embellished stories of the capture of the dragon. Clearly the witches were impressed. They were especially impressed with the stitches Charlie showed off. One very pretty and very drunk witch openly flirted with Charlie and he flirted back. Soon she was sitting on his lap.

They were in the middle of a very wet, drunken kiss, when Rufus, Peter, and Adolfus showed up. They were anxious to catch up with Charlie and the rest of them. Peter apologized for being late. They were waiting on Georgiana, who couldn't decide if she wanted to come, and once she decided to come, she couldn't decide what to wear. Peter rolled his eyes. "Women," he muttered.

Mark recounted Georgiana's part in the capture of the (now a 20 year old nesting female, twenty feet tall) dragon to Esmeralda and her friend. They weren't as impressed that a witch had been part of the capture.

"She must be very manly," the woman, sitting on Charlie's lap giggled. "That's wizard's work. I could never do that sort of work. It's too dangerous."

At that moment, Georgiana walked up to the table holding four bottles of butter beer. Everyone at the table was laughing.

"Well," said Rufus, holding up a glass of fire whiskey. "Here's our little wrangler now."

Each of the men held up their glasses in a wobbly toast. Georgiana was not smiling. She had a frosted look on her face. The witch on Charlie's lap squirmed nervously and hid her face in Charlie's chest. "Oops," she giggled foolishly.

Still glaring menacingly, Georgiana pulled up a chair across from Charlie and sat down. He held up his glass and saluted her. "Glad you could make it, Watson," Charlie shouted over the din. He whispered something into the witch's ear. She giggled again, kissed him sloppily and got off his lap and walked unsteadily toward the ladies' room.

Charlie took at long swallow from his glass, finishing it off. He slammed it hard on the table. Then he leaned in across the table so Georgiana could hear him. She had her arms folded against her chest, sitting rigidly in her chair.

"I wanted to tell you, you were brilliant with the dragon." He shouted.

She looked at him warily.

"Sincerely," he said. "You did good."

Her look softened a little. "Thank you. So did you."

He gave her a cocky grin. "And the only thing that held us back, here, was Bonds," he said laughing and grabbing his arms and pulling him into a manly hug.

Georgiana picked up her bottle of butter beer and laughed, too. Peter and Rufus slammed their hands on the table and guffawed. The rest of the evening was lighthearted. Esmeralda got distracted by another table and tottered off, leaving the dragon keepers to their wild stories and camaraderie.

An hour later, Hortensia came into the pub and joined the party. She was clearly not as drunk as the rest and only ordered mulled wine instead of fire whiskey that the others kept trying to give her. She was friendly, but still reserved.

"Weasley," Hortensia said into Charlie's ear. "I wanted to tell you that you're up for the Pro Eximius Virtus Award, Third Class."

Charlie sat back and looked at her, dumbstruck. "Why?" He asked, confused.

"For rescuing the muggles. The Ministry was most impressed."

"I didn't do anything. We all did it."

Hortensia said, "I know, but it was your idea."

Charlie shrugged. "So? Someone else would have come up with the idea sooner or later." He shook his head. "I don't deserve it," he said.

Hortensia gave him a determined look, and then relaxed. "Oh, I wanted to tell you something else." She leaned in again. "Your muggle did not go quietly."

He stared at her. That was the last thing he wanted to hear. He was ready to go on with his life and not think about her. "But you did use the memory charm, right?"

"Of course," she said, sipping her wine. "But she gave me a hell of a time. She told me that she would never forget you and no charm or any kind of magic would change that. Seems you make quite an impression."

"I reckon," he said and drained his glass.

"Oh, and I gave them a memory," she said off-handedly. "Bus broke down, driver took off, attacked by wolves. Simple and clean."

Charlie nodded. "Good. That sounds better. "

Hortensia's attention turned to Adolfus and they engaged in a quiet conversation. Georgiana was obviously trying to ignore Charlie by focusing her attention on Peter. Charlie propped his elbow on the table and cradled his chin in his hand. He gazed at Georgiana until she finally glanced his way. He smiled and winked at her. He held up his glass for the bar maid to see.

_"Da-mi o altă rundă de whiskey, vă rugăm să_," he shouted in Romanian, pointing to his glass.

The barmaid smiled and nodded that she understood. She held up one finger. He nodded and put the glass back down on the table. This had to be his last drink. He was getting very drunk. Mark had taken off after Esmeralda somewhere.

"Dance with me, Weasley," Georgiana said, leaning over the table to him.

"I'm a Weasley, Watson, and Weasley's can't dance," he said truthfully.

"I don't care, push me around the dance floor, or I'll lead," She stood up and took his hand, pulling him out of his chair. She held on to him as they wandered on to a small area where other couples were dancing. The music was slow, and they swayed to the rhythm. She put her arms around his neck while he held her around the waist.

"You know you could have me if you just asked," she whispered in his ear.

He sighed. "I have this rule about not dating co-workers," he said.

"I'm not talking about dating," she said seductively, leaning her body closely into his.

"Sorry," he said, kissing her lightly on the lips and pulling away. He continued to move around the dance floor still holding her until the music ended. Then he walked her back to their table. He kissed her again, and headed for the door.

"You're not going to get that muggle, you know," Georgiana said, sharply as she watched him walk away. "I'm real, I'm here now." Georgiana's eyes filled with bitter tears.

Charlie turned around and walked back toward her. "Look, Georgiana," he said finally. "You're absolutely right. I know that." He took her hands in his. Looking into her eyes, he leaned into her very close and said, "You're very attractive, Georgiana, and I'm very flattered that you're interested in me. Sorry, but I'm just not interested in you in that way." He released her and took a step toward the door.

"Hey, Weasley!" said Michael, pointing at the glass of fire whiskey the bar maid had left of the table.

Still standing, he picked up the glass. "One for the road," he said and drained the amber liquid. He pulled his cloak on. Waving to his friends, he turned and walked to the door.

Once outside, he took a deep breath. The mountain air was cold and refreshing. He turned and disapparated.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine—Pro Eximius Virtus, Third Class

There was an owl waiting for Charlie when he walked into his dorm room. He removed the letter from the owl's leg, jumped on his bed and opened the thick parchment. The letter was from his brother George. He had apparently heard from Bill and wanted all the details of the dragon's capture. His mum had heard about the stitches he received and, as expected, went ballistic. Molly was worried about him, George wrote, but then when is mum not worried? If her blood pressure didn't get out of control on a daily basis, he, George would be worried.

The family was doing fine. They just found out that Audrey was going to have a baby, which surprised everyone in the Weasley household. Who would have thought Percy knew what to do to have a baby? Apparently Audrey was about four weeks along—you do the math, he emphasized.

There was considerable work involved in launching "Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes" worldwide. The expansion was coming along. He was planning trips to America and Australia and meet with potential investors. WWW was going to be bigger than Zonkos, George assured his brother.

George promised to drop by and see him before he took off for America. He wished him well, and told him that he was anxious to see his stitch scar. "I bet it's cool," he wrote.

At the very end of the letter, which Charlie almost missed because he was getting very sleepy, was the line near the end: "So, big bro, you have a muggle girlfriend." It wasn't a question. How in the name of Merlin's beard could he have possibly picked that up from his letter, thought Charlie? Then he read on, "Pretty obvious from your letter that you were sweet on her. Dad's pleased. Mum's freaking out. Bring her 'round. Can't wait to meet her. Love, George.

PS—Mum's not freaking out because she's a muggle, you know. She's freaking out because we all thought you were gay as toast."

Charlie woke up the next morning with the parchment stuck to his face. The green ink had smeared with his drool. Feeling extremely hung over, he peeled the parchment off his face and threw the letter from George on the floor. This was not going to be a good day.

He stumbled up and managed to make it to the bathroom before he threw up. He looked at the time. It was only 7 a. m. Mark's bed looked like it hadn't been slept in. He was glad Mark wasn't there to make fun of him. He felt like he had been dropped from the side of a mountain.

He had an hour and a half before he had to be at work. He desperately needed a bath and a headache potion. He swore he would never drink again.

Thirty minutes later he had completed his bath, shaved, and was beginning to feel a little better. Mark walked into the room quietly. He didn't look any better than Charlie felt. He did walk with a bit of a swagger, though. Charlie didn't ask him any questions. He just waved to him on this way out.

Hortensia caught up with Charlie in the break room.

"You look like crap," she said, eyeing him.

"I feel like crap," he admitted.

"Director Dragomir wants to see you," she said. Hortensia grabbed a muffin and walked toward the door.

Charlie nodded. "Thanks," he said.

Charlie poured himself a very hot cup of coffee and sat down to read a copy of the _Daily Prophet _that had been left on the table by one of the other British interns. He read the front page; there was a picture of Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt surrounded by a group of reporters. The article was about the Ministry's new policy of amnesty for former death eaters who had signed a loyalty oath denouncing any alliance to a number of dark arts cults that sprang up after Voldemort's death. Apparently, several cults were discovered whose intent was to keep the name of Voldemort alive. At first, the Ministry rounded up all former and current death eaters and sent them to Nurmengard Prison.

The rest of the paper contained the usual puff pieces, nothing interesting to Charlie. He turned to the Quidditch results. His former Quidditch teammate at Hogwarts, Oliver Wood had signed a new contract with Puddlemere United as the first string keeper.

On the back page of the paper, there was a large ad announcing a closing sale at "Zonkos" and below the ad was an ad for "Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes" new store opening sale. Good show, thought Charlie as he folded the paper and put it back on the table.

Dragomir's office was on the other side of the sanctuary in a building that contained a lab, nursery, and a research facility. There were several training rooms for the new interns and students who wanted to study dragons on their own. The sanctuary provided higher education credit in the rudimental care and feeding of dragons. There were also tours available for tourists who wanted to see what a dragon facility looked like. The sanctuary put a high priority on the tours because it brought in much needed revenue. The fellows and the interns rotated duties in tours, as well as the other duties so each intern and fellow was well rounded. Volunteers were also used to cover the gift shop and restaurant.

Mark and Charlie were scheduled to work with the tours the following week, if they were not needed elsewhere. The directors wanted Charlie to work the tours on a permanent basis because he was a natural with the tourists. He had a showmanship quality because of his genuine enthusiasm for dragons. Tourists loved him. He was on several of the sanctuary's brochures and was very popular.

He passed a tour group on his way to Dragomir's office. He stopped to watch Gretchen Hamilton lead the camera-happy tourists to the nursery where baby dragons were being cared for until they could be released into the sanctuary grounds. Babies were vulnerable right after they hatched from older dragons.

"And here is one of our best dragon wranglers, Charlie Weasley," said Gretchen, happily in her best tour guide voice. "Charlie was part of the group that captured that Norwegian ridgeback that had escaped from the sanctuary a few days ago."

Thirty tourists scrambled to get a look at Charlie. Thirty flashes from cameras popped simultaneously, temporarily blinding Charlie. He smiled and waved courteously, blinking madly.

"Can we get your autograph?" a giggly 12-year-old witch asked. She was hanging on to another girl that looked to be about the same age, and they were probably two of the silliest girls Charlie had ever seen.

Charlie looked at Gretchen amused, and said, "Sure." The two girls, plus a handful of other tourists, mostly teen-aged girls rushed up to him with parchment and quills. He patiently signed each parchment and posed for pictures. The attention embarrassed him, but he knew how important it was to keep the tourists happy.

He waved at them as they passed. He grabbed Gretchen's arm as she herded the group, and whispered in her ear. "You owe me a drink," he said.

It was Gretchen's turn to be embarrassed. She blushed and nodded coyly. "Anytime," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Charlie waved to her and the group as they followed her down a long hall until they were out of sight. He proceeded to the escalator that took him to the top floor of the building.

By the time he reached Dragomir's office, he was feeling much better. His headache was completely gone and he was starting to shake off the effects of the hangover. He entered the office and was greeted by Dragomir's assistant, Morley.

"Hi, Charlie," Morley said in a friendly voice. "Congratulations on the dragon. Good work."

"Thanks," he said. "Dragomir wanted to see me."

"It'll be a few minutes. He's got someone in there right now. Have a seat," he pointed to a small couch in the waiting area. He sat down to wait.

"I heard your brother got married. Percy and I were at Hogwarts at the same time." Morley said, conversationally.

"Yeah a couple of weeks ago," Charlie answered.

"Give him my best when you see him again." Morley said.

"Okay, I will," Charlie promised.

The door to Dragomir's office opened, and three wizards rushed out. They did not slow down, but headed out through the main door without looking at Charlie or Morley. Charlie noticed that all three wizards were red faced and appeared to be extremely agitated. He did not get to recognize them because they raced out of the office so quickly. A few seconds later, Dragomir appeared at his door.

"Ah, Weasley," Dragomir said, in a thick Romanian accent. "Come in, come in."

Charlie rose from the couch and followed Dragomir back into his office. Dragomir closed the door behind him and motioned for Charlie to sit down. Charlie waited until Dragomir sat, then sat in the chair across from the director. He patiently waited for Dragomir to say something.

Dragomir leaned back in his chair, and swiveling it left to right. He looked at Charlie intently. For the first time, Charlie was beginning to get nervous. Constantin Dragomir was an imposing figure and one of the few men who could intimidate Charlie. He respected him tremendously. Dragomir had done many things to improve the sanctuary. He was the best director the sanctuary had ever had.

"Did you know, Charlie" he said finally, "that my parents were muggles?"

Charlie was stunned. "No, sir. I didn't know that."

"Not too many people do. I don't try to hide it, but it's not common knowledge." He pointed to a muggle photograph on his desk. Charlie knew that it was a muggle photograph because the people in the frame were not moving. "This was taken right before I went to Durmstrang." Durmstrang was the name of the wizarding academy in Eastern Europe. Most Europeans witches and wizards attended wizarding academies at either Durmstrang or Beauxbatons in France. He touched the frame. "It is the last photograph I have of my parents. They died when I was in my fourth year."

Charlie didn't know what to say. He shifted uncomfortably in this seat.

"You saved the lives of those people in the bus," Dragomir said finally. "If you had not stayed behind, the dragon would have probably killed them. We know dragons are stupid creatures and they are motivated only by the instinct to survive. They are fascinating creatures, as I'm sure you agree, but they are deadly because they react only on instinct. They don't understand that people aren't to be eaten because we are an intelligent species. To dragons, people are an easy food source."

"Sir," Charlie began, "it wasn't just me; the whole team saved those people. I didn't do it alone."

"Yes, yes. You, Bonds, and Watson and kept the dragon at bay until the other teams arrived. But it was you that thought of their safety first. That is why I have recommended you for the Pro Eximius Virtus Award, Third Class." Dragomir said. He did not smile.

"Thank you very much, sir, but Bonds and Watson desire credit as well." Charlie insisted.

"Charlie," Dragomir's voice became thick with emotion, "My parents were killed by dragons because no one thought to save them."

Dragomir stood up and walked over to the large window that overlooked the sanctuary. He put his hands behind his back and gazed at the vast area. He turned to Charlie and smiled sadly.

"My parents lived in a small village not too far from here. Two Hungarian horntails escaped from this very sanctuary and literally destroyed the village. The sanctuary officials did a good clean up job, afterward, but did nothing when the horntails first attacked. Everyone went out looking for the dragons and no one stayed behind to protect the villagers."

Charlie sat very still. He had heard the story of the destruction that the two horntails caused, but he only heard part of the story. His voice was hoarse and dry. "I'm so sorry," he said finally. What else could he say?

"You're probably wondering what I am doing here now, as director of a sanctuary that protects the very creatures that killed my parents." He looked at Charlie.

Charlie shook his head. He understood.

Dragomir smiled again and nodded. "Of course you understand," he said. "We're a lot alike. I realized that the first time I saw you 10 years ago when you joined us."

Dragomir sat down at this desk again. "Well, there will be a ceremony tomorrow evening. Not very elaborate, I'm afraid. But it is better than sending it to you by owl." he chuckled.

Charlie nodded. He looked like he was going to say something else, but Dragomir put up his hand.

"Do not worry, Charlie, the rest of the teams will be recognized as well, especially Bonds and Mrs. Zabini and, of course, Miss Watson."

"Excellent," he said. "Thank you, sir." Charlie stood up and Dragomir reached across his desk and shook his hand.

"By the way, Charlie, we are learning who was responsible for letting the dragon loose. It was intentional." Dragomir's expression was dark, but he smiled and nodded to Charlie. "I'll see you tomorrow evening. Good bye."

He turned and walked outside. Who would release a dragon intentionally? That had to be one sick individual. The question was, obviously, why wasn't it discovered sooner? He thought about the three wizards he saw leaving Dragomir's office. They must have been involved some way. He tried to remember the faces of the three, but they ran out so fast, he didn't get a good look.

"Hey Morley," he began, in his most charming voice. "Who were the three wizards who came out of Mr. Dragomir's office earlier? I didn't get a good look at their faces."

Morley looked around to see if anyone was within earshot. He leaned in again. "Krueger, Srnensky, and Zrubek," he whispered.

"From ..?" Charlie began.

Morley nodded, interrupting. "You won't be seeing them around here anymore." He raised his eyebrows significantly.

Morley refused to say anything more. He cautioned that the investigation was on-going and he couldn't say anything more. Charlie already knew more than anyone else outside the directors' floor.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten—Quidditch

By the time Charlie returned to his assigned station in the infirmary, everyone had heard about his award. Mark was very excited about the idea of being recognized by the Ministry. Once Charlie explained to him it wasn't the British Ministry of Magic, but the Bulgarian Minister who would be attending the ceremony, Mark's face dropped. He was looking forward to seeing some of his fellow countrymen. Mark tended to be a bit of a snob when it came to the ministries. Mark, whose father was an important member of the British Ministry of Magic, considered Britain to be the official ministry.

Mark and Charlie were assigned to do inventory. It was a tedious job that Charlie liked least of all. He would much rather be outside than inside doing boring counting. He was assigned the repulsive task of counting the _Amorphophallus titanum _plants. This job was exceptionally disgusting because the plants gave off the aroma of a rotting corpse. The plant was fed to sick dragons and was actually worked quite well to treat certain dragon illnesses. It was also used to treat dragon bites on humans.

The rest of the day was as boring and annoying as when Charlie began counting. Mark would not shut up. He talked about everything but the night before. He was surprisingly mum about what Charlie was sure was a night of drunken, unprotected sex. To get him to shut up about the mundane matters Mark was stuck on, Charlie asked suddenly, "So how what you date last night?"

Mark was completely taken off guard. He turned very red and stammered. "S'okay," he said, shrugging. "I don't kiss and tell." He turned sharply and began concentrating on the inventory.

"Since when?" Charlie chortled. "So, did you meet up with Esmeralda?"

Mark was still flushed. "Uh, no." He said quietly.

"Okay." Charlie shook his head.

"If you must know," Mark said. "I was with Georgiana."

Charlie was silent for a moment, staring at him. "Well done, mate."

"You're not mad?" Mark asked.

"Why on earth would I be mad?" He looked at Mark with a confused look on his face.

"It's only, I thought you and she were, well…"

"Oh Lord, no." He snorted a laugh. "Not even remotely. I think she used to fancy me, but no. She's not my type at all."

"What is your type? She's beautiful."

Charlie agreed. "Yeah, she is, and if we didn't work together I might have given it a go, but I've discovered that it doesn't pay in the long run to date co-workers. It never works out. The breakup, and there's always a messy one becomes fodder for the gossip mongers. All the witches side with her won't give you a second glance out of loyalty. All the wizards want to have a go for rebound. It's not pretty. And it kills a good working relationship. Screws up a friendship, too." He said.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in blissful silence. At the end of the shift, headed back to the dorm. They smelled of the plants and were anxious to take a hot bath.

"Any plans tonight?" Mark asked.

"Not really," Charlie said. "What about you?"

Mark shrugged. "I thought I'd find Georgiana and see if she wants to go out." He sneaked a side glace at Charlie. There was no reaction, so he continued. "You know, whatever."

"I'll probably write a letter to my mum and head out to the quidditch field for a practice with the team." Charlie was on one of the sanctuary's amateur quidditch teams. His team played the other teams from the sanctuary and occasionally played the village teams. Once, they played the national Bulgarian team, but lost badly. The Bulgarian seeker was impressed with his skills, however, and told him so. Charlie rarely was star struck, but the encouragement he received from the best seeker in the wizarding world, left him completely dazed, flattered, and speechless.

Charlie couldn't think of a way to tell his family about the award without sounding full of himself, so he decided to put off writing the letter for another day. He wasn't comfortable about getting recognition. He loved his job and considered himself just a team member. It wasn't he alone that fought the dragon; it was the whole team. Staying to help the muggles didn't sound like a big deal; it was the reasonable thing to do. Any other wizard would have done the same thing.

After practice, his teammates went to the pub. Charlie vowed not to drink so much, because he was still feeling the results of the night before. His teammates were interested in partying and reliving their last quidditch match and arguing about whose professional team was best. Their good hearted arguing was lively and very spirited.

After a while, Charlie spotted Gretchen Hamilton, the tour guide. She was with several of her girlfriends. He smiled and waved to her. She returned the wave and motioned for him to come over to her table. Charlie excused himself and walked over to her.

"Hello," she said. Her smile brightened. "Fancy meeting you here. Want to join us?"

"Thanks." He pulled a chair and sat down next to her. He greeted the other witches with a friendly smile. They shyly smiled back.

"I owe you a drink," she said.

He looked at her blankly.

"Remember this morning?" she asked.

"That's right," he said He laughed. "I was kidding."

"No. I insist. I did put you on the spot."

"Yes, you did," he said good naturedly.

Gretchen smiled. "You are so good with the tourists," she insisted. She turned to the others at the table. "You wouldn't believe how charming he is around his minions of fans."

Charlie blushed slightly. "I'm just all-round charming, aren't I?"

The women giggled.

Gretchen insisted on buying Charlie a drink, and he accepted her offer of a glass of elf-made wine. He bought the table a round. Soon Charlie's friends joined them and the party got quite lively. The men entertained the women with harrowing stories of dragon wrangling, bragged about their quidditch expertise, and impressed them with their general skills and knowledge. None of the women worked directly with dragons and they hung on every word. As the night got longer, the stories became wilder and more dangerous. Each sentence usually began with, "Remember the time we…"

The witches wanted to hear all their stories, and were deeply impressed with Charlie's experience with the Norwegian ridgeback. They insisted on seeing his stitches. They gasped and shuttered at the sight, but all of them wanted to touch it. Charlie gave the other wizards a knowing look. The wizards rolled their eyes at him, but secretly each one of them wished he had stitches too.

After a time, the group sort of paired up together and wandered on and off the dance floor. Charlie stayed seated next to Gretchen and didn't make a move to ask her to dance. She didn't seem to mind, although she glanced at her friends as they headed to the dance floor and back.

Charlie kept to his promise and drank very little that evening. He was funny and charming and attentive. He kept the conversation light and complimented Gretchen on her tour guide skills. Gretchen was very flattered. She made it clear to him that she was interested in him and wanted to see him again. Most of the witches he met came on to him in an aggressive manner, clearly indicating that their interest was physical. He was not looking for a long term committed relationship with a woman. He loved his life and wasn't ready to give up any part of it.

He thought of Andrea. What was it about her that made him think about settling down? His life was good. He could have everything he wanted on his own terms. Having her was impossible. Perhaps that's what made it so appealing.

Gretchen was still talking about something he wasn't paying any attention to. He looked like he was fascinated by her every word, but that was part of his charm. He said all the right things at the right time.

"I heard you don't date co-workers. Is that true?" she asked him.

"Where'd you hear that?" he asked. His brain was able to pick up certain buzz words that made him pay attention when the conversations were heading a certain direction.

"Oh, around." She shrugged inconsequentially.

A sly smile spread playfully across his lips. "Really? What else have you heard about me?"

It was Gretchen's turn to blush. "Every witch is madly in love with you," she blurted out. "You're quite a catch."

Charlie laughed out loud. "It's my freckles and red hair, right? Completely irresistible." He laughed again.

Gretchen blushed again. "Come on, Charlie. You know you're handsome and charming. There's not a witch here who wouldn't love to be with you."

He looked at her and smiled. "I don't know how to answer that. It's not something that I was aware of." He lied.

"Surely, you must know." She said earnestly.

Charlie wanted to keep the conversation light. He wasn't in the mood to talk about how women reacted to him. They just did. He thought it was because of his lifestyle. He lived an exciting life. He had a thrilling job, he was a talented wizard and a pureblood, and most women looked at him as a rebel. He wasn't, of course. He was just doing what he loved to do. He wasn't oblvious to the attention; it was useful at times.

He had everything he needed or wanted. Life was good.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven—The Culprit Revealed

Charlie left Gretchen with her friends and returned to the dormitory with his quidditch mates. Mark was already asleep when he got back. He undressed quietly and got into bed.

Although he was very tired, Charlie found it hard to go to sleep. His mind was filled with thoughts of his future. He could honestly say to himself that he would be perfectly happy not to commit to a long term relationship because, as ridiculous as it sounded if he said it out loud, he had found and lost his true love. He could live the rest of his life as a carefree bachelor. Was the muggle just an excuse not to commit?

At one time in his life, he would have been perfectly content to remain at the sanctuary, become a fellow and live the life he had always imagined for himself. Was he starting to get bored with his life? He could honestly say there was nothing he loved more than his world of dragons.

He listened for the sounds of dragons within the sanctuary. They were mournful cries, disquieting and at the same time soothing. The noises at night had a familiarity that put his mind at ease. He was at home here, even more so than the Burrow, where he grew up.

Mark rolled over on his back and began snoring. It would be nice to have my own place, Charlie thought. If he left the sanctuary he could freelance back in Britain or work for the Ministry. The thought of working inside all day disturbed him. Perhaps he'd take up his friend Hagrid's invitation to work as groundskeeper at Hogwarts after Hagrid retired.

There were plenty of options available to him. He didn't necessarily want to leave his life at the sanctuary, but as his mother would say, he was getting older and needed to settle down. When he thought of settling down, his thoughts kept returning to Andrea and the brief time they had together.

Charlie was surprised when he woke up the next morning that he had gotten any sleep at all. But obviously he had gotten some sleep because the sound of Mark stirring woke him up. His head jolted up off his pillow. Morning light streamed in from the window. Charlie yawned and stretched.

"Good morning," said Mark, dryly. He was finishing putting on his work robes.

Charlie blinked and nodded. "Morning," he said, stifling a yawn.

Charlie noticed that Mark's demeanor was rather stiff. He didn't look at him as he greeted him. "What's up?" Charlie asked, pushing the covers away from him. He got out of his bed quickly, stood up and stretched his hands over his head and bounced on the balls of his feet.

Mark just shook his head. "It's getting late. I'll meet you in the dining room." He closed the door behind him.

It took Charlie a few minutes to finish getting dressed, but, noting the time; he hurried up and soon met up with Mark in the dining hall. He was greeted by several of his friends. At least they were acting normal, he thought.

He chose his typical breakfast from the buffet line, flirted with the line servers and sat down next to Mark and a few of the other keepers from his dormitory. He was one of the few wizards who preferred hot strong coffee every morning. He drank his coffee black which disgusted most of his friends who preferred a good English tea or pumpkin juice.

Charlie had a forkful of scrambled egg headed to his mouth, when Mark suddenly spoke up.

"She doesn't want to have anything to do with me," he said unexpectedly.

"What?" Charlie put his fork down. "Who?"

Mark shot him a dark look. "You bloody well know who I'm talking about," he said, coldly. "Georgiana, of course."

Charlie shook his head stupidly and shrugged his shoulders. "Why?"

"You know perfectly well why." Mark said sharply.

"Look, I have no idea what you're talking about." Charlie was beginning to get testy himself.

"She only shagged me to get back at you. She told me last night. She told me to leave her alone."

Another sign of a great day thought Charlie and he sighed heavily. "Well, I think you're better off without her," he said honestly.

"She's totally in to you," Mark said.

"There's absolutely _nothing_," he emphasized, "between us. I told you that. She sounds demented. Better off without her."

They finished breakfast in silence. Mark headed off for the infirmary leaving Charlie at the table, finishing his coffee. Just as he was leaving, he ran into Georgiana, who appeared to be waiting for him in the hallway.

"We need to talk," she said, grabbing him by his sleeve and pulling him into a broom closet. Charlie followed her. The room was quite small and dark. He pointed his wand at the ceiling and said, "_Lumos_," causing his wand to emit a soft light. Charlie was beginning to get angry.

"Well?" he said to her. "What do we need to talk about?"

She said nothing, just staring at him.

"Will you please stay away from me? I thought you understood that I don't want anything to do with you. I enjoy working with you as a co-worker; you're an incredible keeper, but that's all. You're demented." Charlie was beginning to believe that she was completely insane.

"I'll do anything for you. I love you, Charlie Weasley." She put her hands on his chest and tried to kiss him. He pulled away. Charlie knew that he had to get away as soon as possible. He didn't think his sense of humor would work this time, or the good manners that his mother insisted upon. He thought about a good stunning charm.

Finally, he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "What is wrong with you?" he asked. "I'm no prize." He tried humor. "Mark Bonds would do anything for you. Go after him."

A sly smile crossed her lips. "I confunded him."

"Well, it worked." He said.

"But I don't want him, I want you. I tried a love potion, but you must be immune." She said

"I am. My mum cast a very powerful, ancient protective spell on me when I left home that protects me from minor curses, love potions, and the like. It comes in real handy sometimes." He said, conversationally.

Georgiana scowled a little. "That makes sense. I tried very hard for you to notice me."

"It wouldn't have mattered," Charlie said. "I always was impressed with your skills."

"Yes, but I knew that once we worked together wrangling that you would know that we were perfect for each other." Georgiana sighed sadly.

"But you knew that I never got involved with people I worked with."

"I didn't believe it. I was so sure…" Georgiana's voice trailed off.

Charlie looked at her curiously. "What are you saying?"

Georgiana shook her head. She turned her face away from him.

"What did you do?" Realization swept through Charlie. He forced her to look at him. Shaking her, he asked again, "What did you do?"

Georgiana began to cry. "It wasn't supposed to happen. It was in a remote area. There weren't supposed to be muggles around. No one was supposed to get hurt."

"Georgiana, no." He shook his head sadly. "Why would you risk lives? Are you insane?"

"I'm so sorry," she begged. "Please don't hate me. No one was supposed to get hurt," she repeated, crying louder now.

"You've got to turn yourself in. I'll go with you."

Georgiana shook her head. "I can't do that. Do you know what they will do to me?" Her hand shifted in her robes and she pulled out her wand and pointed it at Charlie.

Before she could utter a curse, he pulled out his wand and shouted, "_Expelliamous!!" _Georgiana's wand flew up in the air and she was knocked backward, hitting her head on the broom closet door. In the process, the door was blasted open, and they both fell through it and landed in the hallway floor just outside the dining room.

Stunned, Charlie landed on top of Georgiana. Curious looks came from the wizards who happened to be in the hall at the time. A few of the witches gave Charlie a disgusted look.

"Get a room," one wizard muttered.

Seconds later Georgiana regained consciousness and struggled to retrieve her wand. Charlie grabbed her arm and held it down. He was trying to get to his feet while still controlling Georgiana and holding on to his wand. She fought him with everything she had. Without her wand she was reduced to kicking, biting, and punching. She was, after all, a dragon keeper. She was very strong and landed a punch to Charlie's injured shoulder and he cried out in pain.

"Charlie Weasley's insane! Help me!" She screamed. "He tried to rape me!"

Four wizards jumped on Charlie and tried to pull him off Georgiana. Two witches grabbed Georgiana's arms and pulled her from under Charlie. Charlie pointed his wand at them and at the same time four wands were aimed at him.

"Don't let her get away," he pleaded as he lowered his wand. "It's not what you think." The wizards pulled him to his feet, their wands pointed at him.

"Don't move," the tallest wizard warned him. "Drop your wand."

Charlie let his wand drop. He was breathless and rested his hands on his knees, bending over so that he could breath. "I need to see Dragomir," he panted. He pushed his hair back from his face.

The witches helped Georgiana to her feet. "I'm okay," she said in a sadly, pathetic voice. Charlie glared at her. "I need to get to my room," she said, clutching her robes to her chest.

"Don't let her go," Charlie warned.

Georgiana retrieved her wand and pointed it at Charlie. "_Cru—_" she began, but Charlie's friend Michael, who had just come up to see what was going on, slapped the wand from her hand.

"You can't use an unforgiveable curse," he yelled. "What's going on here?"

"Watson said Weasley tried to rape her," the tall wizard explained. "They blasted out of the broom closet. She was disarmed and Weasley was on top of her."

"Charlie, what happened?" Michael asked, very confused.

Charlie panted, and tried to catch his breath. "The dragon," he said. "She was the one who let it loose."

"You're crazy!" Georgiana shouted. "He was mad at me because I fancied his roommate. He dragged me into the broom closet and tried to rape me." She was crying hysterically, clutching to the witches around her.

"That's not true. Get security. I need to see the director." Charlie tried to remain calm, but the reality was that there was a chance that someone might believe her. He needed Mark to verify his story. The wizards knew him and everyone liked him, surely they would believe that he was telling the truth.

Suddenly two security wizards appeared. The two wizards were friends of Charlie's from the quidditch team. He felt relieved to see them. He knew that they would be impartial.

"Weasley!" Simon Armstrong, the team's keeper said, surprised to see friend. "What's going on?"

The tall wizard spoke up. "Georgiana Watson has accused Weasley of trying to rape her."

"What?!" Bryan Dobson, the other security wizard said, incredulously.

"It's not true," Charlie said. "She admitted to me that she had set the dragon loose outside the sanctuary, and I was trying to convince her to turn herself in."

Georgiana shook her head vehemently.

"You need to get Mark Bonds," Charlie said.

Within the hour, Charlie and Georgiana were taken to the security office. Director Dragomir was called and he met them there. The security wizards, including the director of security was on hand.

Director Dragomir and the Director of Security Apollina Norville spoke together while the others watched and waited. After two more hours, Charlie was released and told to get ready for the ceremony with the Ministry of Magic. He was instructed to go to Dragomir's office after he had gotten ready.

Charlie went back to his dormitory and changed into dress robes. He was concerned about the outcome, but he was confident that the directors would see that he was telling the truth. He had nothing to hide, but still, being accused of raping was extremely disconcerting.

When he walked into Dragomir's office, he was surprised to see his mother and brother, George waiting for me. He greeted them affectionately and wept when his mother hugged him.

"I guess they told you what was going on," he said, wiping his eyes.

Molly Weasley nodded and hugged her son again. "I'm sorry your dad couldn't be here, but it was really such short notice. He couldn't get away."

"I knew that," he said. "I didn't expect you to be able to come. I'm so happy to see you."

George, as usual, cracked jokes and made him feel so much better.

Charlie told them about the incident that morning. He was still stunned that Georgiana would put that many people in mortal peril just to prove a point. He shuttered as he told them that the carnage could have been a lot worse. Molly and George looked at each other. Molly wore a grave expression and nodded in agreement.

"You could have been killed," she said, wiping her eyes.

Suddenly a green light appeared in the director's fireplace, and out stepped Kingsley Shacklebolt, the British Minister of Magic. As soon as he entered the room, he gave a warm greeting to Molly, George, and Charlie. They were Order of the Phoenix members and the last time Charlie had seen the minister was at the dedication ceremony for those who had died at the Battle of Hogwarts. Shacklebolt shook Charlie's hand and greeted him warmly.

"We're very proud of you, Charlie," the minister said. "Very proud, indeed. If you don't mind, I brought along a photographer from the _Daily Prophet._" He indicated a tall, lanky man holding an ancient box camera.

When Director Dragomir returned, he was accompanied by the Minister of Magic Oblansk. The minister carried a decorated box that contained the award. Minister Oblansk greeted Minister Shacklebolt and they secreted themselves in a corner of Dragomir's office. Charlie introduced the director to his mother and George. Dragomir held Molly's hand as he told her how proud he was of Charlie for his bravery in saving the muggle passengers on the bus. Charlie blushed but tried hard to conceal his embarrassment. He was never the sort who enjoyed attention.

Mark Bonds was the last to enter. He walked over to Charlie as soon as he spotted him and shook his hand.

"They explained what happened. The bitch." Mark spat.

Molly sided a glance toward Mark and drew a quick breath.

"Sorry Mrs. Weasley." Mark said, flushing slightly.

Clearly Mrs. Weasley hadn't been told about the incident in the hallway. Charlie was happy about that. He didn't want to have to explain what happened. All he did say was, "The directors found out who had let the dragon escape."

Molly and George both shuttered. "Someone from the sanctuary?" Molly asked, aghast.

Charlie nodded and was about to explain, when Minister Oblansk raised his hand to start the ceremony. Charlie stood very still as his mother sniffled while the Minister put a large medal over his head. Director Dragomir read the citation on the certificate as the minister finished. The minister also presented Mark with a much smaller medal. Clearly Mark was very proud of his medal. None of his family was able to attend, but Molly made Mark feel like family. He was grateful for the attention.

The photographer snapped pictures of the ceremony and got some snapshots afterward. Molly stood next to her son and cried through the ceremony. She was so proud of Charlie.

Unfortunately the ceremony did not last very long and soon it was time for Shacklebolt, the photographer, Molly and George to leave. Molly kissed her son warmly and she and George disappeared into the fireplace. They were soon followed by Ministers Shacklebolt and Oblansk. The photographer was the last to leave.

Once the room had cleared out, Director Dragomir asked Mark to leave so that he could talk to Charlie alone. He agreed quickly and shook the minister's hand before he left.

"Miss Bonds was on our short list of suspects. She confessed. She is clearly deranged. I recommended that she get some kind of treatment. I think she really is remorseful."

"She did fight the dragon with us," Charlie said. "I can't believe she would do such a horrible thing."

Dragomir smiled slyly. "Obsession is a very odd thing."

"I reckon," Charlie said. He shuttered.

Dragomir walked around his desk and sat down. He motioned for Charlie to sit. He waited until Charlie had seated himself before he spoke.

"You are clearly one of the bravest men I have ever met. I want you to know that we are putting you on a fast track for you to become a fellow. That is, if that is what you want." He eyed Charlie a long time.

Charlie dried his sweaty palms on his thighs. "Yes sir. That's fantastic. Thank you, sir."

"How would you like to spend a year overseas in the sanctuary in America?" He asked. "You could learn so many useful things that you could bring back with you and apply them here. The fellowship begins in six weeks. What do you say?"

Charlie didn't know what to say. He had the opportunity to study abroad. He had never seen American dragons before.

"I know a year's a long time to be so far from your family. But then, it's a long way from your family now, isn't it?"

Charlie was still stunned. He was going to study dragons in America? He thought. Me? Charlie jumped up out of his chair and shook Dragomir's hand. "Yes, sir. I would love the opportunity," he said.

Dragomir smiled and slapped his hands on his desk. "Wonderful. Can you be ready to go in six weeks?"

"Absolutely," he said, grinning broadly. "I could leave tomorrow, if you needed me to."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve—Telling the Parents

The next morning, all the sanctuary personnel were talking about Georgiana and how she had allowed the ridgeback to escape. The details of why she did it were left to everyone's imagination. Charlie was grateful that bit of information was left out. When his friends asked Charlie for his opinion, he merely shrugged. Before the end of the day, the best guess was that Georgiana was trying to impress the directors with her wrangling skills so she would be recognized and become famous. The silliest guess was that she was trying to impress another keeper (_I heard she really fancied Charlie Weasley)_, and the worst guess was that she was into the dark arts and meant to kill all muggles or that she was simply demented.

The next exciting piece of gossip was that Charlie Weasley was leaving in six weeks. The conspiracy theorists said it was because the ministry was trying to cover up the rape allegation against him. Suddenly, the story got out that he was a serial rapist and was being forced to go to China. Since just about everyone at the sanctuary liked Charlie a lot, no one believed that he was a serial rapist. He was so popular with the ladies that none of the witches believed anything bad about him. Every witch that had ever dated or wanted to date him agreed that he was too polite and knew that "no meant no."

Charlie confirmed that he was indeed leaving in six weeks, but he would only be gone for one year. He was going to study dragons in America. His friends and co-workers were excited for him and a little envious.

When Charlie returned from another day of counting in the infirmary, he found the common area plastered with pictures of him from the _Daily Prophet _article when he received the _Pro Eximius Virtus Award._ Embarrassed, he tried removing the pictures, but they had been attached with some sort of sticking charm. He was forced to gaze at his goofy expression as Minister Oblansk presented him with the medal. There was also one little picture of Mark receiving his award, which Mark was so proud, he didn't want it removed.

Finally, after several excruciating hours, everyone got tired of looking at Charlie's face so he was allowed to remove all the pictures. Mark kept his photograph while Charlie took delight in burning them.

The rest of the week passed uneventfully enough. The excitement and gossip died down and everyone return to their normal routine.

The next week Charlie and Mark worked in the publicity department. Charlie worked with Gretchen in conducting tours. It was the height of the tourist season. Mark enjoyed the attention because for the first time he was as popular as Charlie. Since their pictures had appeared in the _Daily Prophet_, the wizard families from England were especially anxious to get a picture with the famous Charlie Weasley. Charlie always pointed Mark out to the crowds so he got this share of fan adulation.

In the evenings, when he wasn't playing quidditch or going out to the pub with his friends, Charlie spent time in the sanctuary's vast library reading up on America and the American dragons. He found out that there were three species of dragons native to America. One species lived in the desert and either did not have the ability to fly, or rarely flew because he could find no incidents of the American red dragon being spotted in the air. They were red, only ten to twelve feet long, and lived in the _cantos de la montañas,_ or mountain ridges. Their red color made excellent camouflage against the iron filled earth. Muggles had mistaken the American reds for giant lizards. There were an estimated fifty reds living in the American preserve.

Another example of American dragon was the verdemalo, also a desert dweller in the American southwest. The verdemalo is a large, green and brown scaled dragon with a wing span of 25 to 30 feet. The verdemalo is a fire breather. Native American legends in the west told of a giant flying devil that snatched misbehaving children while they slept. According to the most recent count, there were only one hundred fourteen verdemalo remaining and they were all in captivity.

The last known American dragon species was the _gigante volando demoniac,_ or the flying demon. This dragon appeared to be a hybrid of the verdemalo and the Chinese Yinglong (from _Draconika Dragons_ online /culture.php). The flying demons' favorite food were mastodons, which may had aided in the mastodons' extinction. They feed on American bison, mustangs, and other dragons. The population of the flying demon has dwindled from several thousand in ancient times to only thirty-five.

The American Dragon Preserve was founded in 1905 by a group of wizards whose descendants had emigrated west in the 1800's from Ireland, Scotland and Wales. There were only about fifty wizards who run the preserve, whose main job is to ensure that muggles and dragons don't meet. The wizards have an old west cowboy philosophy. Charlie knew he would get along with the Americans very well.

The preserve itself occupied several million acres in the American south west. It was bordered along a densely muggle populated area on one side, and desert and mountains on the other side.

With three weeks left, Charlie decided it was the right time to tell his parents about the fellowship to America. Knowing that he won't be able to see his parents for at least a year would be difficult because of his closeness to his family. He left after he finished his shift at the nursery and made it to the Burrow before dark.

Molly and Arthur were sitting down for dinner when he apparated just outside their door.

"What a nice surprise," Arthur said, letting him in the house.

He kissed his mum and stepped inside. He carried a large duffle bag over his shoulder, which he threw on the floor.

"Is that your laundry, dear?" Molly asked.

He nodded. "Sorry about that, mum. I was in a hurry to leave, and since I have no clean clothes, I would have had to wash them tonight and I wouldn't have been able to leave until tomorrow." He pushed the duffle bag away from the middle of the floor with the toe of his dragon skin boot. "I'll do them tomorrow, ok?"

Molly grinned, patting him on his cheek. "Not to worry, dear. I'll do you laundry."

He kissed her on the cheek again. "You're the best, mum."

"Have you eaten yet?" Arthur asked, anxious to get on with his supper.

"No, but I'm not hungry. I'll sit with you while you eat. I have something rather important I want to talk to you about." He said, heading for the table.

Molly gave Arthur a wary look.

Charlie sat down and immediately grabbed a roll from a serving plate. He picked off little bites and put them into his mouth. Arthur and Molly sat down.

"Where's Ron and Ginny?" he asked looking around.

"They're spending the weekend with Harry."

"Oh," he said absently. "Good." He played with the pieces of bread and rolled them into little balls.

"We know all about her," Molly said, finally. It was clear that Charlie was trying to work up the nerve to tell them about his muggle girlfriend that she found out from Bill. "And we're very happy for you." Arthur nodded.

"Huh?" He asked, choking on a piece of bread he had just popped into his mouth. "What?"

"Your muggle girlfriend. The one you told Bill about. Why didn't you bring her along? Daddy and I are anxious to meet her."

Charlie shook his head. "No, mum. I don't have a muggle girlfriend."

"But…" Molly was clearly confused.

"Okay, there was this muggle that we rescued, and I kind of got a little crush on, and maybe I was thinking about it would be nice to settle down with her, but it would have never worked out. Besides she doesn't remember me or anything that happened. Hortensia Zabini put a memory charm on all of them." Charlie spoke very quickly.

Molly and Arthur both looked very disappointed. Clearly it had been Molly's fervent wish to see her children happily married with loads of grandkids for them to play with.

"Oh Charlie," Molly said sadly. "I'm so sorry."

"You know I'm not ready to settle down. My work at the sanctuary is too important to me."

"That's what you've talked yourself into, son." Arthur said.

"I'm very happy, dad," Charlie retorted defensively. "I love my life and what I do." Charlie was beginning to get irritated. He got up and went into the kitchen pantry and brought out a bottle of elf-made wine that he had given to them for their anniversary. He pointed his wand at the cork and it flew across the room. He took a big swallow from the bottle and wiped his mouth with his hand. He sat back down still holding the bottle.

"So," Arthur said icily, folding his arms across his chest. "What's the important thing you wanted to tell us, then."

Charlie took another drink and set the bottle on the table. He played with the label. "I'm going to America for a year to study dragons at the American preserve. I'm leaving in three weeks." Hunching his shoulders, he gazed at them. He didn't want to tell them this way. He wanted it to be happy news. After all, it was a great honor to be chosen to be a part of the fellowship.

"Shit," he said. "I'm sorry, mum. I didn't mean to blurt it out like that. I'm excited about going. I wanted to spend time with you before I left."

His mother handed him an empty glass, and he poured the wine in the glass. He looked at her sheepishly. "I was chosen to go by the directors of the sanctuary. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity."

"I think it is wonderful, Charlie," Molly said. "But you'll be gone a whole year?"

He nodded. "That's the bad part. I won't be able to visit you while I'm there."

The rest of the evening was quiet enough. Charlie explained about the dragons in America and the preserve. His parents could tell he was excited about going, so they were happy for him too. He told them he would be staying for about a week.

They finally headed off for bed around midnight after Charlie helped his mother clean the dishes. He left his dirty laundry in the floor and went to the third floor to sleep in the twins' old room.

Once he had settled in and gone to sleep, Molly and Arthur stayed awake talking about their older son.

"I'm worried about him, Arthur," Molly said. "I'm afraid he's drinking too much."

Arthur shook his head. "He's a high spirited lad…" he began.

"He's not a lad any more. He's a grown man. It's time he settled down."

"I'm sure he'll be all right, Molly. He's just different from our other children. He wouldn't be happy in the city with a regular job. It's not his style."

Molly nodded as she yawned and drifted off to sleep. But Arthur stayed awake thinking about his son's future.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen—Faux Wizards

Charlie spent the last night in Romania partying with his friends. The sanctuary directors had invited him to a special dinner and afterwards he went to the British wizards' pub in Brasov. He asked Gretchen to meet him there, which she did, bringing most of her friends. Gretchen was not happy he was leaving and needed her friends for support.

His quidditch mates had given him a golden snitch for practice in America. Quidditch in America was abysmal. The national team had never made the finals in the World Cup, and the British felt their effort at building a good team was impossible. They had "Americanized" the sport into some unrecognizable game that the British looked down on with disdain. Charlie promised not to play quidditch with the Americans so he would stay pure to the game. If he got the chance, though, he would go to an American game. He was also interested in muggle sports and wanted to find out what baseball was.

Transportation had been arranged in a very complicated manner through the floo network. Since the journey was too long for conventional methods, Charlie had three jumping off ports. His first destination was Ireland, Greenland, and Salem, Massachusetts. From Salem, he was to take a portkey to the wizard community outside Austin, Texas, where he would spend the last night of his trip and finally to the Preserve further west in the Chihuahuan Desert, near the communities of El Paso, Texas and Las Cruces, New Mexico.

Charlie was met in Austin by three fun-loving wizards who declared themselves "ambassadors" and insisted on showing him the town. They were about Charlie's age, or slightly younger. The first wizard, Travis, explained that he had been raised in Austin and knew where all the hot spots were. Charlie never found out what the names of the other two wizards were, because they insisted that he call them both "Tex."

"You've got to go the muggle bars," the first Tex said.

"You do want to party, don't you?" Tex number two asked.

Charlie Wesley had never turned down an opportunity to party and partying in a muggle bar seemed like a dream come true. "Sure. Lead the way," he said enthusiastically.

They walked into a bar on 6th Street, sat down and ordered beer. The place was jumping and there was a live band. It was crawling with muggle women, all looked to be just over the legal drinking age.

It became apparent to Charlie that these American wizards had no intentions of hiding their identity to the muggles in the bar. Travis explained that Austin was the most accepting cities in America, and contained the oddest array of people. The city's unofficial motto, "Keep Austin Weird," certainly described the people Charlie met.

Charlie leaned over the table and shouted at Tex One, "I expected to see everyone in cowboy hats, like the old west. I didn't expect to see anything like this."

A woman who was standing at the bar next to Charlie bent over close to him. "Ya'll from Australia, ain't you?" She said in a very friendly tone. She put her hand on his shoulder and sort of massaged it.

Taken aback at her familiarity, Charlie pulled away from her slightly. Travis burst out laughing. "No, ma'am," he said loudly. "Our friend here's from England. We're showing him the town."

"Well, well," she said. "Hey ya'll. My name's Tammy." She extended her hand for him to shake. He took it graciously.

"A pleasure," he said.

"If I wasn't fixin' to leave I'd ask you to join me." She said, looking over him seductively.

Charlie had no idea what the woman said. He didn't understand the language although he thought that everyone was speaking English. He was completely out of his element. The beer was weak and all he wanted to do was pee.

"Where's the loo?" he asked suddenly.

The second Tex decided that it wasn't a good idea to let me go off by himself, so he told him to follow him, and they made their way to the back of the bar. Standing at a urinal with four other men, Charlie suddenly realized why he felt out of place. He hated the city. He felt closed in and claustrophobic. If he could make it through this evening he'd be all right.

"How many wizards live here?" He asked when he got back to his table.

"Roughly about a thousand. Austin has the third largest wizard population in the state. There are a lot of what we call "faux wizards" around here. Muggles who have no idea what a real wizard is but claim to be witches and wizards. They are funny to watch. We could show you some of them." Travis said.

Charlie shrugged. "Sure. That may be interesting. I've never heard of anything like that."

The two Tex's and Travis took Charlie outside the back door. "Hold on," Travis said, and they held on to Charlie's arm as they disapparated with a distinct "crack."

The four apparated outside a rather glum looking gothic framed house. The outside lights were glowing an eerie greenish-blue. The lights inside gave off a reddish glow. There were muted voices coming from inside. On the front door, was a sign in rune that said, "Peach chicken," followed by a bunch of random Druid symbols.

"Hey, Tex," Charlie said, laughing, "Did you see this sign?"

"None of us can read runes, what does it say?" he asked.

Charlie told them and they all laughed out loud.

"What'd I tell you?" Travis asked. "Wait, it gets better." Travis knocked on the heavy door, and a rather chubby woman with long bleached blond hair, wearing black robes, opened the door. Her rather mournful look was replaced with a bright smile when she obviously recognized Travis and the Tex's.

"Peace, enter," she said rather breathlessly, bowing slightly. The wizards returned the bow. Straightening up, Travis pointed to Charlie.

"Lilith, this is our friend Charlie. He's a wizard from England. He's a dragon keeper."

Lilith did some sort of hex sign that Charlie did not understand. Instead of returning the salute, he stuck out his hand.

"A pleasure to meet you," he said, clearly unable to wipe the grin off his face. "You have a lovely home."

"Oh Charlie, Lilith is a Druid as well as a witch." Tex two said, also amused.

"That would explain the runes," Charlie said.

"You know we don't like to be called witches," she said patiently. "I'm a wiccan."

"So, you're not a witch?" Charlie asked.

"It's the same thing," she said, rather impatiently.

"Know any good spells?" Charlie asked with a hint of a smile in his voice.

Lilith looked at the other wizards. She wrinkled her brow. "You don't take this seriously, do you?"

"Forgive me," Charlie said. "In England we usually greet a new family with a charm or a spell and an offer of elf-made wine." He lied easily. He was having a good time. "I take it the customs are a lot different here in the States." He bowed very low. "I'm here to learn."

There were about eight women, counting Lilith in the small sitting room and two skinny, dark haired men. Everyone was dressed in dark robes and the women's makeup was powdery white and they wore either very red or very black lipstick. Everyone except Lilith and another fat witch had dyed black hair, cut in jagged clumps around the face.

"Did I hear them say you were a dragon slayer?" one of the skinny, pimply faced men said.

Charlie turned around to face him. "No, I'm a dragon keeper. I worked in Romania on a dragon sanctuary."

"Oh," the pimply faced man said. "I'm a dragon slayer. I'm thirteen level of _Dragon Slayer._" He said proudly.

Charlie had no idea what the boy was talking about. He started to say something, but Travis whispered in his ear.

"Some like of video game, I think. A lot of the 'wizards' play them."

Charlie's eyes lit up. "Video games? Fascinating. I have always wanted to see one of those. How on earth do muggles get them to work without magic?"

He turned and looked around the front room. "And do you have a tellyvista?" he asked, excitedly. The wizards looked at him blankly.

"You know, the thing that shows pictures on a big screen?" He tried drawing a square with his hands.

"Television," Tex one said. "I don't think they have one."

Travis snickered. "Not out in here anyway."

"Oh," he said disappointed.

"You know, Lilith," Tex one said, pointing to Charlie. "Charlie's a real good potion master. Learned it from one of the greatest potion masters in England. He can whip up a potion for just about every occasion."

One of the dark-haired women, who was very pretty in spite of her bizarre make up, said, "Do you have a love potion that is more powerful than Selene's?" The pointed to the other fat blond haired muggle.

"Uh, I don't know about that, but my brother makes a love potion that is very good. I am more into elixirs for dragon bites. You know, stuff like that. I can make a potion that'll heal sunburn. I get sunburned a lot because I'm outside all the time and my skin's fair. That happens when you've got freckles and red hair."

"Would you try the love potion?" the girl asked, obviously flirting with Charlie. "It makes you feel really good." She showed him a bottle. He took a sniff. He could identify the ingredients by the smell. He thought he smelled lavender and rose oil, and some kind of citrus. If this was a love potion, he was Severus Snape.

"Unfortunately, I am immune to all love potions. My mum put a charm on me that protects me from love potions and some curses. Surely you've heard of it."

The girl looked at him blankly, then smiled. "Of course I have."

"But," he said, in a low, sexy voice, "You don't need a love potion. You're pretty bewitching yourself."

The girl was responding to the famous Weasley charm. And clearly, the pimply faced boy was not at all pleased. Charlie was violating his territory. The boy made a hostile move toward him. Instinctively, Charlie put his hand on his wand.

"Now, now, gentlemen," Travis said jumping up between them, trying to deescalate the situation. "Let's not compare wand sizes."

Charlie relaxed his hand from his wand. "Mine's much bigger," he said.

"Bugger off, junior," he said to the boy and turned his attention back to the woman.

The boy started to make another aggressive move, but the pretty woman put her hand on his arm. "Brandon," she warned. "Go sit down."

Charlie remained quiet and watched the boy retreat to a chair near the dining room. Brandon looked sour and glum.

"I didn't realize he was your boyfriend," he said casually.

The girl sighed heavily. "He isn't my boyfriend. Lilith lets him hang around here. You know how wizards are."

Charlie smiled broadly. "No, how are we?" He asked.

"Well, American wizards are assholes."

Charlie laughed. "I guess English wizards are assholes, too. But we're very charming." To prove his point, he took her hand and kissed it. "You smell wonderful. I'm Charlie, by the way."

"Hi," she said, shyly. "I'm Chloe."

Charlie put his hand behind his back and produced a single pink rose, which he handed to her. She drew a loud breath.

"That's beautiful. How'd you do that?" she asked putting the rose to her bosom.

"Magic," he said, with a small smile. He touched the rose and it turned blood red.

Behind him Travis and the two Tex's coughed and covered their mouths to keep from laughing. Charlie gave them a dark look, but he grinned and winked. Travis and the two Tex's sat down on the overstuffed sofa next to a couple of young girls.

Lilith had a large crystal ball out and was telling one of the girl's fortune. Charlie was intrigued and walked over to where she was sitting and stood behind her.

"Amazing," he said. "I'm awful at divination. I never could see anything in a crystal ball. Used to make stuff up so I wouldn't get a failing mark." He leaned in closer. "Are you getting anything?" he asked, seriously.

Lilith and the girl who sat across from her "shushed" him, and he pulled back. "Sorry," he whispered. He went back over to where Chloe was standing.

"Where were we?" he asked, huskily. He led her to a corner of the room with another large sofa. He motioned for her to sit and he settled in after her. Charlie watched the other people in the room as he stroked Chloe's hair absently. The group was an odd lot. The two males came around, Charlie was sure, because of the girls who hung around. Lilith was an old fraud and he felt the same way about Selene. It was all utter nonsense. He was sure the group would go into a fit if there was any real magic used.

The wizards had said it was good for a laugh. Charlie thought that the last thing he knew about was muggles. Now he realized he knew less about the faux wizards. Muggles who pretended to be wizards. He shook his head. What a laugh.

Charlie decided it wasn't up to him to spoil their fun. He watched as the group made a feeble attempt to recreate chants and hexes. He was quite sure they didn't have the foggiest notion of what the words meant. The runes and symbols were nothing more than an attempt to convince someone that everything was real.

It occurred to him that these people wanted what he breathed and lived every day, and he started to feel sorry for them. He understood them a little better. While he had always been curious and enamored with all things muggle, he had never actually wanted to be one. These muggles wanted to be something else. To Charlie, that was very sad. He couldn't give up magic any more than he could give up breathing air.

The clock on the wall began to chime. Chloe stood up and said, "It's time for the ritual now. Do you want to join us?"

Charlie shook his head. He couldn't take any more faux magic. "Maybe next time."

The muggles formed a large circle and joined hands and walked around in the circle six times. They were chanting something low, but their voices became louder with every circle. Charlie and the other wizards watched them, bemused. They were chanted words that sounded, no, _were_, _"All hail Voldemort."_


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen—Voldemort's Servants

Charlie shot up out of his seat in surprise and revulsion. The three wizards looked at him curiously. He had his wand out before he realized what he was doing. Now the wizards were concerned and stood up with him.

"Do you realize what they are saying?" He asked them.

The wizards looked at each other and shrugged. "Just some mumbo-jumbo." Travis said dismissively.

"You've never heard of Lord Voldemort?" He asked, breathing hard, and shaking slightly.

"Name's familiar. I figured it was some sort of pagan or vegan god." Tex one said.

It was incredulous to Charlie that these wizards had never heard of Lord Voldemort, the darkest and most evil wizard. And why in the name of all things holy were these muggles chanting his name?

Charlie stood there with his wand still in his hand. He had been so quick that several of the women stopped chanting and looked at him curiously. He was very angry.

"Do you have any idea what you're saying?" He shouted at them. They turned and looked surprised. They stared at him. "Voldemort is dead!" he said emphatically. "He was nothing to be 'hailed'." Charlie's whole body was trembling with anger.

Selene said defiantly, "He was a great and powerful wizard. We worship him. How dare you speak—"

"He was a murderer and an evil wizard! Where did you hear his name? He was nothing to be worshipped or admired, especially from a bunch of muggles who have no idea who he was!"

Charlie recalled the witches and wizards who died fighting Voldemort: Tonks, Lupin, Fred and the others.

"My own brother died fighting Voldemort! I will not stand for him being praised like he was something wonderful!"

The three wizards moved closer to Charlie. They drew their wands as well and were ready to fight with him if these muggles made a move.

Selene started chanting under her breath, encouraging the others to continue.

Lilith began to writhe and dance around pointing to Charlie like she was cursing him. Charlie looked disgusted and slightly bored.

"You old fraud," he said, pointing his wand at her. "_Stupify!_" he shouted and she was knocked back and landed hard on her back with her feet comically in the air.

One of the skinny boys started toward Charlie. He pointed his wand at the boy and shouted, "_Levicorpus!" _The boy stopped in his tracked and was suddenly upended, suspended in the air by his right ankle.

This apparently terrified the rest of the group because every one of them started clamoring for the door, including Selene. Lilith, who was only stunned, began crawling toward the kitchen.

"Not so fast," Charlie said, putting his foot on her back. "Tell me who told you about Voldemort." He aimed the wand at her head.

"The Internet!" she shouted after Charlie poked her head once more.

"I don't believe you." He looked up at the three wizards. "What's the Internet?"

The wizards shrugged. "Some muggle computer thingy. No idea how it works."

"Get up, please," Charlie said politely. He helped Lilith to her feet, and walked her over to her overstuffed chair. He pointed his wand at her. "Sit," he commanded and she did. She was trembling.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Charlie reassured her. "I just need answers."

The skinny boy, who was still suspended by his right ankle was squirming and yelling. Charlie looked at Tex two and said, "Can you get him down and shut him up?"

Gleefully, Tex two pointed the wand at the boy and cried, "_Liberacorpus!" _and the boy fell to the floor. He scrambled to his feet and ran outside the door.

"Damn, Charlie," Travis said, grinning broadly. "You're going to get us into so much trouble."

Charlie grinned and bowed his head. "Yeah. Sorry about that."

"It's okay," Travis said. "I haven't had this much fun in a long time."

"Who is this Voldemort?" Tex one asked, putting his wand away and sitting back on the sofa he shared earlier with the young woman.

"The most evil and darkest wizard ever born. He was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of wizards and hundreds more muggles. His followers were called 'death eaters' and they were as bad as he was. He was finally killed about three years ago by a great wizard named Harry Potter. Voldemort killed Harry's parents and tried to kill him when he was about a year old. Harry was the only wizard to survive the killing curse.

"We fought him and the death eaters. I belonged to a secret society called the Order of the Phoenix, along with other wizards and my family and Voldemort and the death eaters were defeated at the Battle of Hogwarts, my old school. My brother, Fred was killed that day

"I can't understand how you guys don't know about this stuff."

Clearly, Travis and the Tex's were stunned. "Wow," They said together.

"He never made it over here," said Tex one.

"Thank God for that," Charlie said.

"Now," he turned his attention back to Lilith. He put the wand in her face again. "You were saying."

"I met a man on-line and we chatted, you know," she giggled nervously.

All four wizards shook their heads simultaneously.

"We had a lot in common, you know, me being a witch. He said he was a powerful wizard and he was a disciple of the Dark Lord Voldemort. He told me all about him and how he was revered around the world."

Charlie snorted.

"Business wasn't too good, I sell Wiccan artifacts and such and tell fortunes on the side, and I thought this would be a good way to expand my business. So my sister and I recruited like-minded thinkers—"

"Gullible fools," Charlie inserted. "You must realize how dangerous this is, Lilith. I'm not afraid of Voldemort because he's dead; it's his followers that are intent on continuing his work. There are dark wizards out there. And this _is_ real." Charlie emphasized. He sat down next to her.

"What was the wizard's name that you talked to?" Charlie asked suddenly.

"I don't know. His user name is DarkLordServant. When he comes to town, I call him 'Master'."

"Great." Charlie had more questions but he didn't understand what a user name was, but now wasn't the time to get a crash course in muggle studies. "How often do you see him?"

"I've seen him twice." She admitted.

"When was the last time you talked to him?" Charlie asked.

"About two weeks ago." Lilith wiped sweat from her upper lip. "I know I'm full of crap, but it's my business. A girl's got to make a living somehow." She giggled nervously.

"Well, you're right about one thing," Charlie said, standing up. "You are full of crap. But you are into something that is real and it can get you killed."

Charlie paced around the small living room, thinking. "I can't believe dark wizards are recruiting muggles. Dark wizards really hate muggles. Their one mission in life is supreme rule over muggles. Maybe he thought you were a real witch but how would he know about the Infermet?"

"Internet," Travis corrected.

"Right," Charlie said distracted. "This wizard, was he American or a foreigner?"

Lilith thought hard. "He was British, I think. He spoke with a British accent."

"Well, that's good news, I think. So maybe it was just one death eater who thinks he can keep Voldemort's memory alive in a new place. And since none of you have ever heard of Lord Voldemort, maybe the movement hasn't spread here. That's good." Charlie was thinking fast. He continued to pace.

"Listen, you really have to make sure that this doesn't spread over here. Dark magic is evil and dangerous. Will you three promise me that you keep a lookout for even a whisper of Voldemort's name?"

The three wizards nodded. "Sure. We certainly don't need any more dark wizards here than there already are. You can count on us."

"And you'll let me know if you do hear of anything. Your Ministry of Magic—"

"Department of Magic," Travis corrected.

"Okay, Department of Magic, then, may know more than we think it does. Most governmental agencies are more secretive than you'd imagine.

"And when the wizard makes contact with you again, Lilith, try to get his real name. And please don't promote Lord Voldemort as the next savior of the world. Okay? Trust me when I say you do not want a bunch of death eaters coming over here. It will make it very uncomfortable for muggles, even deadly. Promise me, Lilith." He was laying on the Charlie Weasley charm.

"I promise," she swore.

"And get that ridiculous rune sign off your door. It doesn't say what you think it says." Charlie looked around to the other three wizards.

"Well, I'm about done here. What'd you say we go find something stronger than that piss water you Americans drink?" He put his wand away and headed for the door. "I've got a dragon preserve to get to tomorrow."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen—Wizard Cowboys

After the adventure of the night before, Charlie got to bed late, really late. He had about two hours worth of sleep when a witch from the hostel he was staying knocked on his door and told him that the portkey he would be taking to the preserve would be leaving in an hour.

Charlie leapt out of bed took a quick shower and crammed his belongings in a duffle bag which he slung over his shoulder, and ran to the front desk to pick up the portkey. The hostel staff had a bagged breakfast waiting for him.

Since he was going to the preserve alone, his portkey was a horse shoe. He was able to wolf down the prepared breakfast just as the portkey started to glow blue. He touched the horse shoe and suddenly he was being pulled back quickly like a bow and then whipped forward hurling him toward the ground. He was able to slow himself down and when he finally fell to the ground, he had slowed down enough to land with only a thud and not a crash.

He had landed in a desert. He had never seen anything so desolate or as beautiful. The first thing he noticed, after the cactus, scrubs, and grayish brown soil, was the heat. He thought he was going to melt. Enormous sweat marks appeared under his arms, across his chest and across his back.

Dear Lord, he thought pulling the sticky wet clothing away from his body, what have I got myself into? He thought the soles of his boots were melting to the ground sticking like glue. He had only been standing in the sun for less than fifteen minutes and he felt his skin begin to burn.

"Better get you out of the sun before you burst into flames," said a friendly voice. "They didn't tell me you were a red head. We're going to have to get you a hat. Howdy, you must be Charlie. My name's Jack. Welcome to the American/Mexican dragon preserve." Jack stuck out his hand and Charlie took it.

"Pleasure to meet you." He wiped his brow with his sleeve. "Is it always this hot?"

"Nope. Gets downright cold at night. You'll get used to it, I promise you. Now, let's get you out of the sun."

Jack handed Charlie a broom. "Thought you could use this. You didn't bring your broom did you?"

Charlie shook his head. He accepted the broom graciously. "Thanks."

Jack handed him a water canteen. "Make sure you drink lots of water." Jack waited until Charlie drank his fill. "I've got to fly out over the north rim if you don't mind coming with me. Our biggest threat these days is poachers. Muggles come over and shoot up the place. They ain't after dragons, cause muggles don't know they exist, for the most part. Nah, they go after big horn sheep and deer mostly." Jack had a slow drawl that Charlie could understand. He liked Jack immediately. "You got to watch out for gun fire. Muggles'll fire their guns up in the air for no good reason. We've had a couple of near misses and near hits. If you're paying attention you can deflect the bullet with a spell, otherwise watch out."

"Okay." He mounted the broom and flew up in the sky following closely behind Jack.

Soaring up in the sky, Charlie felt free. He was happier than he had been in a long, long time.

"This won't take long," Jack shouted to him as he swooped closer to the earth. He pointed to a ridge. "See that?"

Charlie strained to see what Jack was pointing out. It looked like a huge cave inside a ridge.

"Right over there is the rim of a great canyon. Sometimes the reds fall down into the canyon. They don't fly, you know. Usually it's the babies and we have to pull them out. They like living in the caves on the ridges. They're not real bright. We tried moving them further from the rim, but they keep going back."

Jack took a nosedive into the canyon, flying low among the scrub brush. He pointed to a clump of brush. "See?" Jack shouted.

Caught in the brush was a red dragon, it was about six feet long and was lying on its back. His feet were kicking frantically. The dragon produced smoke from its nostrils that was yellow in color and curled in ringlets. The dragon was making a sound like a lamb.

"It's a baby. Thought so." Jack said. He landed his broom and move quickly to the baby red.

"See. They have wings, but for some reason they don't fly. I doubt these puny wings could support them. They get pretty big."

Charlie landed next to him and began clearing away the brush to reach him better.

"Ain't he cute?" Jack said, smiling up at Charlie. He grabbed the dragon's hind leg.

"It's beautiful," Charlie said, in awe.

"He ain't gonna hurt ya," Jack said. "His mother would, but babies are real slow in developing. They don't see too good right now."

"That's right, ain't it boy?" he cooed to the dragon. "We'll get you out."

Charlie had never seen anything quite like how this wizard talked to and handled the baby red. He sounded like the dragon was a calf or some other mammal and he was his mother. Jack reminded Charlie of his friend, Hagrid, who never met a dangerous creature he didn't love.

"Once we get him untangled, I'll stun him and then the two of us can carry him back to the ridge. Let's just hope mama dragon is taking a nap. Be careful of the talons and the tail," Jack advised.

Jack pointed his wand at the baby and said something Charlie didn't understand. A rope came out from the end of the wand and wrapped around the dragon's mouth. It held its mouth together securely. He repeated the charm and a length of rope appeared and wound itself around the dragon's front and back legs. The dragon was trussed up securely. Jack took his wand and stuck it between his teeth.

The precision of the wrangling impressed Charlie. He helped pull the baby out of the brush with a hover charm while it continued to cry like a lamb. It was subdued and calmed down after a while. Jack took his wand and stunned the dragon. He produced a harness that secured the dragon between Jack's and Charlie's broomstick.

"Follow me," Jack said, mounting his broom. Charlie followed him and flew by the side as they climbed to the rim of the canyon. The dragon stayed very still and didn't say a word.

Jack looked over the rise, and sighed audibly. "We're in luck," he said. "The mama's not out of the cave. She's probably taking a nap. We gotta hurry."

Jack and Charlie landed close to the mouth of the cave. They laid the stunned dragon down and Jack released the ropes. "Good boy," he cooed. "Nice baby. Go to mama." He hit the dragon on its flank with his hand like a cowboy would do to a steer or pony. "Let's go!" He shouted to Charlie. They quickly mounted their brooms and flew high into the air.

Charlie looked back and saw the dragon scampering toward the cave opening. The head of a very large red dragon peered out of the cave entrance and let out an earth shattering cry. The dragon took a deep breath and spewed liquid fire into the sky.

"Brilliant," Charlie said. He had forgotten about the heat and his thirst. He was in awe of the dragon and how Jack wrangled it.

"We better get you inside before you dehydrate," Jack said, looking at Charlie's reddening skin. "We'll be heading to the bunkhouse. Got your stuff?"

Charlie patted his bag. "Everything I own."

The preserve was nothing like Charlie imagined. The preserve was divided into three sections; the infirmary that contained the nursery, the main building, and the dorms, which Jack called the bunkhouse. The buildings were not fancy. Where the Romanian sanctuary was old and traditional, the preserve was rustic and quaint. The administration buildings were a lot smaller than Charlie had pictured it.

Charlie was introduced to all the keepers. There were a total of fifty who worked and ran the preserve and that included thirty keepers. The other staff worked in the infirmary, research, headquarters, and cafeteria staff. There were no female keepers, but there were 15 females who worked in the support staff.

The rest of the keepers were like Jack; down to earth and completely devoted to what they did. They were a fun loving lot that took their job seriously. The keepers had weathered faces from the harsh desert sun. Charlie noted that the lot had less burns than he, but more scars.

The keepers were interested in the potions Charlie brought for dragon bites and the chocolate-based pain elixir. Jack told him they had a sunburn remedy that also worked on dragon burns. The protective gloves the American keepers wore were similar to the ones Charlie brought. Both were made of dragon skin, the American gloves were imported from China. Jack asked to borrow Charlie's to compare the two.

The keepers' work was less mystical than the European version. While the European dragons had magical powers, the American dragons did not appear to have any extraordinary\magical powers. Jack pointed out that the American dragons were in a more prehistoric evolution due to the age of civilization.

Jack promised Charlie a tour of the compound the next day. He would also meet with the bosses (as Jack called them). For the rest of the day, Charlie settled in and met with the other staff. Jack gave him a hat, as promised. It looked like a muggle cowboy hat. It had a wide brim that protected his face and the back of his neck.

Charlie used some of the American's potion on his skin and found he liked it as much as his own. The desert sun was a lot different from the European mountains.

Most of the keepers and staff, Charlie found out, were from the west or southwest part of the country. Some of the researchers came from the east. And like Charlie, the majority favored the rustic life and had a general disdain for the city. Charlie told them how the wizards he met in Austin intermixed with the muggle population.

"Well, it's different out here," drawl Jack's friend, Pete. "I don't like the city much. The muggles out this way are different too. Ain't too many wizards out here, so sometimes we have to rely on muggles. Mike's wife's a muggle." He said, pointing to a tall, lanky wizard with dark hair and a mustache.

Mike nodded. "I'm about the only one out here that's married. Lindsey understands that what I do is important to me, as important as breathing. But she caught my eye and you'd have thought I'd been _imperiouse_d the way I acted."

Pete laughed. "He was moping around like a sick dragon for weeks."

The other keepers laughed with Pete. Mike grinned and nodded. "Yep. It was a hard decision to make. Probably one of the hardest. We're from two different worlds. I didn't want to give up what I do and I wasn't sure Lindsey would be willing to give up her life for a dragon keeper. But we worked it out. My family disowned me, but I hadn't seen them in years anyway. I ain't going back to the city anyway. We're happy here."

Charlie was quiet. "Why did your family disown you?"

"My family's purebloods. We go way back, even before Salem. They're a little stuffy about such things. You'd be surprised at the prejudice against muggles with the American wizards." Mike said. He looked completely at ease dismissing his family. He was apparently at peace with his decision.

"Why don't you come by for supper tonight, and I'll introduce you and you can meet my kids." Mike said.

"You have children?" Charlie asked stupidly. "Are they wizards?" He turned even redder than he thought possible. "Forgive me for being rude." He said. He was about to explain that he was only curious; he didn't mean to pry into his life.

Mike waved his hand dismissively and smiled. "You're not being rude. I guess you'd be curious. Most wizards are. Trudy, my oldest is a witch. She gives us all hell. Mike Jr., well, it's too early to tell, he's only six months, but I think he might be. He sure gets his bottle when he looks like he might start crying. Of course, that could be Trudy. She's real helpful."

"How'd you meet your wife?" Charlie asked.

"We met in the desert. I was flying around checking the eastern rim, and there was a truck parked out in the middle of nowhere. Lindsey was taking pictures of the desert. She was wearing tight jeans and she had this sassy plait of blonde hair down her back. She was beautiful. She had no idea there was a nest of verdemalos not fifty yards from her. I kinda just wandered up to her, and struck up a conversation, keeping my eye on the verdemalos and somehow talked her into giving me a lift to town and we drove off. First time I'd ever been in an automobile. I think I fell in love that moment."

Pete and Jack rolled their eyes. They'd obviously heard the story about fifty times. But then they smiled and slapped Mike on the back, good naturedly.

"I'd love to meet your family," Charlie said, forcing a smile.

Charlie spent the rest of the day meeting the other staff and learning his way around the compound. The witches and wizards he met were just as warm and gracious as the keepers had been to him. He felt welcome and truly at home.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen—Mike's Muggle

At the end of the day, Mike found Charlie at the dragon nursery, watching the newborn dragons. After showering and getting dressed, he had strolled around the compound to get a better feel of the place. The weather was still hot, but the potion had alleviated the burn, and he was feeling much better. In fact, his freckles actually made him look like he had a nice tan.

Mum won't recognize me when I get back, he thought gazing as his reflection in the glass pane of the nursery.

Mike held on to Charlie as they disapparated. They apparated just inside an iron fence that surrounded a neatly cultivated yard. Sitting in the middle of the yard was a salmon colored stucco house with a red tile roof. The front door was thrown open and a little girl, who looked to be around four years old and had the blondest hair Charlie had ever seen, ran out into the yard and jumped into Mike's arms.

"Daddy!" the little girl screamed. "You're home, you're home, you're home!" She hugged and kissed her daddy. He kissed her back and flung her over his shoulder.

"Mikey threw up all over mommy. Twice," she said. Then the little girl proceeded to tell her father all about her day. Suddenly she saw Charlie who was standing next to them. She wrapped her arms tighter around her father's neck and peered around her father's head to get a better look. She was very shy, but curious.

"Hi there," Charlie said, smiling at the girl.

"Trudy," Mike said, pulling the little girl up so she could get a better view. "This is Mr. Weasley. He works with me. Say hi."

Trudy looked at him with the biggest brownest eyes, "Hi, Mr. Weasley." She said shyly.

Mike's wife, Lindsey was standing at the door, holding a pudgy little baby with no hair. The baby was chewing and drooling on a slimy chew toy. Lindsey smiled brilliantly and Charlie could instantly see why Mike fell in love with her. She was beautiful. She was almost as tall as Mike, which make her a couple of inches taller than Charlie. Her skin was deeply tanned and she wore her hair in the same plait that Mike had described earlier.

Lindsey kissed Mike. "Take your son," she said. "He's teething and been grouchy all day."

Mike took the baby and gave him a big kiss. "Icky," he said in a sing-song voice. "Baby drool." Trudy laughed.

Lindsey held out her hand and Charlie took it. "Hello," she said, politely. "Mike tells me you're from England."

"Yes ma'am." He released her hand.

"Nice to meet you. Come on in. Excuse the mess," she said as Charlie followed her inside.

"I hope you're not a fussy eater," she said over her shoulder.

Charlie shook his head

"Make yourself at home," Mike said graciously, putting the baby in the play pen that made up most of the living room. "Want a beer? It's Mexican."

Charlie nodded and sat down while Mike walked into the kitchen and brought back two bottles. Mike settled in what was clearly 'his' chair. He looked relaxed and comfortable. Charlie couldn't help staring at him.

"Are you okay?" Mike asked him when he didn't say anything for the longest time.

"Yes. Sorry. The day just hit me. I didn't get much sleep last night, and you guys had me work a full day today. I'm afraid if I sit down too long I'll fall asleep." He took a long drink of the beer. "I appreciate you inviting me here," he said. "All of you have made me feel welcome."

Charlie relaxed after that and they talked about the preserve, the dragons, and the staff.

"Charlie saw his first red today," Mike said, bringing Lindsey into the conversation. "Jack took him out to the north ridge when he first got here. Didn't even give him a chance to take a breath."

"I had no ideas dragons existed before I met Mike. It was a real eye opening experience. They are fabulous creatures, though." Lindsey said. "I've actually photographed some, but Mike won't let me publish them. Too bad. They're good pictures. But," she continued, "I understand what would happen if people got wind that there were real dragons."

"I'd love to see the photographs," Charlie said. "I'm sure my mates in Romania would like to see them as well. We don't have a lot of information about the American dragons."

Lindsey promised to get a collection together so that Charlie could see them.

The conversation stayed light. Lindsey fed Charlie hamburgers and hot dogs, chips and beer. He had never had such good food. He had never tasted American food before and it was wonderful.

Charlie didn't stay too long after dinner. The day was catching up to him, and he had a full day trying to survive the heat tomorrow. He said good bye to his new friends and disapparated outside their back door.

He was in a two-man room, which he shared with Jack. He reckoned Jack was his sponsor or mentor. Jack was not in the room when he returned. Charlie fell right to sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He didn't hear Jack come in. He slept through the night without even rolling over, he was so tired.

The next morning, he was awoken by the sound of a large clanging bell. He jumped up at the same time Jack was rousing.

"Dang bell," Jack complained as he pulled his covers over his head and rolled over.

The bell obviously was used to wake the entire bunk house. It was a play on muggle movie westerns and the classic dinner bell. Someone must have thought it was funny or a good idea. None of the keepers were impressed with the noise.

The preserve itself was built on the same principle as a cattle ranch. The point was if any muggle wandered in off the highway, they wouldn't think it unusual in any way. Apparently these wizards hadn't protected the operation with a shield charm.

During the next couple of weeks, Charlie spent a lot of his spare time in the headquarters building that contained the research facility. He wanted to learn all he could about the Americans and the dragons. The staff was very nice and helpful. He got along with everyone and started to party with the keepers and the staff. After the shifts were over, there was very little to do, so the keepers traveled down to Mexico to party. He usually ate with Mike and Lindsey once a week. Lindsey put together an album of dragon pictures she had taken and given it to Charlie. The photographs were beautiful and they looked more like art that photographs.

He dated several of the female staff workers. They were casual dates, he wasn't serious about any of the witches, but he liked their company. He especially enjoyed the researcher's company. She was a black haired Hispanic witch, whose name was Camilla. She spoke rapid Spanish when she was angry knew more hexes than his sister, Ginny. She was not the kind of witch you wanted to make mad. She had a fiery temper, but she was also very passionate and a good lover.

Charlie didn't have time during the day to miss his family, he stayed much too busy. But at night, he thought a lot about his mother and father, and wondered what his brothers and sister were doing. There was virtually no communication. The owl network didn't fly to America, and the system was more complicated that Charlie had time for. He missed his mates in Romania, and although he had made good friends here, he missed quidditch most of all.

He had heard horror stories of the abysmal way the Americans played quidditch. He hadn't the nerve to ask if anyone played. There were other sports that the Americans played that were similar to quidditch, but none were as exciting to him. He almost passed on an invitation to watch a game, but the fact was he missed the sport so much that even American quidditch would be better than nothing.

Several of the dragon keepers and he traveled to a city just inside the Mexican border to watch Mexico play the United States. The game was actually quite good. There were several British wizards playing for the American team. The Mexicans were a good team, more traditional, so he enjoyed the match.

After the match Charlie and the others went to a pub to celebrate the American's victory. In the bar, Charlie recognized two of the American chasers. They were British witches. He walked up to them to say hello, when one of the wizards recognized him.

"Charlie Weasley?" the woman cried."What a small world!" She jumped up and hugged him.

Charlie was taken aback. She didn't recognize the woman. "Hi," he said warmly.

The woman was still holding on to him as she dragged him over to her teammate. "Iris, meet the greatest seeker I have ever seen. You were in your seventh year when I entered Hogwarts. Every girl in Gryffindor was madly in love with you. Oh my God! You won the House Cup for Gryffindor how many years in a row? You looked at me once and I almost peed in my pants." She grabbed his forearm and dug her finger nails into his arm.

"So you were in Gryffindor?" he said conversationally.

"I'm sorry, how rude, of course you wouldn't know me. I'm Joanna Morgan."

"Morgan, right. Are you related to Kenneth Morgan?"

"My brother. You played with him."

"Of course I remember Kenneth. How's he doing? And what are you doing in America?"

"Ken's fine. Married now. Me? I was traded. I played for Ireland for one season. I wanted to travel. Watch what you wish for, right?" She was absolutely bubbly. "I'm still on a rush from the match today. I'm usually not this weird. So what are you doing in Mexico?"

Charlie laughed out loud. "I'm working at the dragon preserve not far from here. Why don't you ladies join us? These are some of my mates from the preserve." Joanna picked up her margarita and she and Iris moved over to the larger table.

Joanna leaned over the table and addressed Jack and Pete. "You enjoy the match?" She asked.

Jack and Pete were a little star struck. They had never actually been this close to a professional quidditch player before. They nodded wordlessly.

"You play very well," Charlie said to Iris and Joanna.

"Thanks. Those Mexican beaters are the worst I've ever seen. I almost lost an eye today. What do you think of our seeker? I think he's rubbish, but he got lucky today. You should play for the Americans. You could name your salary. I'll introduce you to the coach. He's Bulgarian, Popov. Do you remember him? I don't. Most of the players are foreign. I think only the beaters and the seeker are American. Our beaters are good though." Joanna finally drew a breath and took a big sip of her drink. She licked her lips. "This is good."

"When's your next game?" Charlie asked her.

"We're playing Mexico again tomorrow night. Can you come? I can get tickets for all of you. Quidditch isn't a popular here, for some reason. I think the owners would pay wizards to show up. Hey! Anytime you want tickets, just let me know. I'm serious I'll introduce you to the coach. He'll love you."

Charlie shook his head. "I'm getting too old to play," he said.

"Nonsense." Joanna flicked her wand and a small snitch appeared flying directly at Charlie's head. Instinctively he grabbed the snitch.

"See. You still got it."

"I have a job."

"Yeah, but do you have thousands of witches falling all over you?" She asked.

"Yes!" said Jack and Pete simultaneously.

Charlie laughed out loud.

"Everywhere he goes," Jack said. "You gotta beat 'em off with a stick."

Charlie rolled his eyes and Joanna laughed.

"It's that Weasley charm," Charlie said, joining in. "Freckles and red hair are hot."

"Weasley, _seriously,_ send me an owl. We've got to go. Give us a kiss." She grabbed the front of his robes and kissed him soundly on the mouth. "Nice meeting you all," she said slightly breathlessly to Jack and Peter. "Keep our boy safe. Come on Iris, we're going to be late. Bye, now."

Joanna and Iris walked out of the bar, heads together. Iris looked back at Charlie and smiled shyly. Charlie smiled back and waved.

"Wow," said Pete. "They'll never believe us. Dang, I should have gotten a picture or an autograph."

Pete and Jack talked about meeting the two chasers all evening.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen—Poachers

Jack and Pete couldn't find anything better to talk about for the next week but their meeting two members of the American Quidditch team and how one of the chasers had tried to convince Charlie to join the team. The only positive part of the incident that occurred was a renewal of interest in quidditch, so Charlie was able to recruit enough players to have matches. Most of the players were dreadful, but at least Charlie was playing the game.

The games were usually played on Sunday afternoons in front of staff and their friends and families. Mike's wife attended the games and was clearly sold on the sport. She became the unofficial photographer, although she only took muggle photographs, but she was such an incredible artist that the photographs were beautiful works of art.

Joanna sent an autograph picture of the American team to Pete and Jack. Joanna's inscription was cheeky and funny, thanking them for the most incredible night of her life. Jack put the photograph in his room. He began collecting anything he could find on Joanna and his wall was plastered with pictures of her and the team.

After the second week at the preserve, Charlie didn't need any additional training. He was keenly aware of all the stations and each job performed. He wasn't forced to take inventory like he was in Romania, and basically his only job was wrangler and keeper. He patrolled the eastern and northern ridges and alternated in the nursery. He helped release dragons into the wild and acted as census taker.

The area the dragons roamed was not as vast as that area in Romania. The dragon population was not as dense, and there were only three known species, and one of those weren't known to fly. The verdemalos and the flying devils did not fly to great altitudes like their European cousins. They tended to stay in low lying areas closer to the desert floor.

As promised, Charlie finally got used to the heat of the desert and the chill of the desert night. He knew what time of day was best to fly, dawn and dusk, and when the greatest risk of poachers were. He learned to stay away from mountain lions, the only natural enemy of young dragons, other than adult dragons. And the beauty and awesomeness of a desert storm still took his breath away.

Like his co-workers, he worked hard and played hard. He depended on his fellow keepers, and they knew that they could depend on him.

He developed a fondness for mezcal (the kind with the worm in the bottle), Mexican food

and hot chile peppers called habaneras. Charlie did one thing he never would have considered back home, fired a muggle rifle. Of course the recoil knocked him off his broom. He got up, handed the rifle back to Jack and told him he'd stick with his wand.

The preserve was also the home to a breed of flying horses. The first time Charlie saw the horses, he was flying alone along the eastern ridge, when a herd of the beautiful creatures swooped around him. He couldn't wait to get back to the bunk house to tell his friends. The winged horses were a very rare sight and it was considered look luck to see a herd. Native Americans called the winged creatures, "sky horses," he was told.

There wasn't as much regulation and ministry interference with the day to day operation of the preserve. The preserve was a cooperation between the American Department of Dangerous Magical Creatures and the Mexican _Departamento y Regulación de Mágicamente Seres._ The preserve relied on government funding and private donation. There was no publicity department and no tourists. The only ones likely to wander onto the preserve were muggles who had simply gotten lost. There were no towns or villages close enough to be in danger, but the preserve was bisected by a major muggle highway and was within traveling distance of two cities in the United States on the eastern perimeter.

On the occasions that Charlie was teamed with Mike, he talked a lot about his family and how close they were. He was a pureblood, too, but his family would welcome a muggle into the family. Mike rarely said anything when Charlie talked about his family. He had made the decision to leave his family when he married Lindsey.

Charlie talked about Andrea. He felt that Mike was the only one who would understand his decision to let her go.

"I'm not ready for a long term relationship or for any commitment," he told Mike.

"Then you did the right thing," Mike said.

Charlie didn't believe Mike was being honest with him, but he heard the answer he wanted to hear, so he accepted it.

"I'm going to make one more sweep of the area before it gets dark. You go on ahead," Charlie told Mike as they flew together.

"Okay," Mike said. "I'll sweep over yonder and meet you back at the bunk house." And he flew away.

The sun had just set and the sky was a brilliant red-orange. Some of the clouds looked purple and looked like dragons flying in the air. He flew lower toward the ridge. He was paying attention to the two muggle trucks that were parked along a fence line, but he was distracted by the sound of wings, beating quickly and erratically. He looked directly to the west, into the dying sun, and there it was, an American red, and it was flying. It looked to be about six feet off the ground, and Charlie could tell it was a baby dragon. He couldn't believe it. American reds didn't fly!

He was so excited that he dove away from the dragon so he wouldn't frighten it away. He was about 100 feet in the air, ready to turn closer to the dragon, when suddenly, there was an explosion of pain in his chest and he could not draw breath. He slid a little from his broom and had it not been for his having the instincts of a seeker, he would have fallen off his broom.

He touched his chest. He was bleeding. With great determination and grit, he maneuvered his broom in a controlled dive toward the earth. As he was losing his grip, he pulled out his wand, pointed it at the ground and said breathlessly, "_Pluma terra," _as he slid from his broom. His descent was slowed and he landed on his back on a ridge that was about five feet from the ground. He closed his eyes and rolled onto the hard ground.

He lay dazed on the ground. Blood oozed from a hole in his chest. The pain was excruciating and he felt himself begin to lose consciousness. He lay very still, struggling for breath. He realized that he was about to die alone and in a foreign land. He thought about his parents, is brothers and sister, and all the adventures he had had. Struggling for breath, he thought about his brother, Fred. Fred had died a warrior's death with a smile on his face. Fred, he thought, help me to die well.

As he drifted in and out of consciousness, he found himself surrounded by a white fog. He saw his brother walking toward him, smiling as he always did. Fred was reaching for him and he struggled to grab his hand, but he was too far away. Help me, Fred, he called out in his mind. This is going to kill mum was his last conscious thought and he closed his eyes and waited for death as a tear fell from his eye.

He felt himself being moved. He thought he heard voices, and he was laying flat on his back. The voices weren't talking to him and he could no longer see his brother. This is the journey to the afterlife, he thought. But if he was dead, why was he still in so much pain? He tried to touch his chest, but he couldn't move his arms. They were strapped to his side. There was something covering his nose and mouth, but at least he could breathe.

Faces were faded in and out of focus in front of him. There were red lights blinking and so many people were trying to get to him.

"My wand," he whispered beneath the mask, but no one acted like they heard.

His body was jerked up and it appeared that he was on some sort of rolling bed and he was being moved very quickly. Someone had removed his shirt and he felt exposed.

Finally, someone did look down at him. The man smiled and said, "You're going to be fine, we're getting you to a hospital."

Charlie blinked his eyes and looked around slowly. Then he lost consciousness.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen—The Dream

There was a bright light shining in his eye, flickering back and forth in both eyes. He blinked and tried to close his eyes, but discovered someone was holding his eyes open. A woman dressed in purple was leaning over him and the necklace around her neck was falling out of her top in front of his eyes. It was a dragon on a chain.

"Sir," the voice said. "Can you hear me?"

Charlie nodded. The woman straightened up and looked at him in the face.

"Andrea," he said.

She stood up, "How'd you know my name?" she asked with a curious look on her face.

One of the other women who was next to her, pointed at her chest. "Name tag." She said brightly.

"Oh yeah," she laughed softly. She touched Charlie's face. "You're going to be just fine, sir." She said. "What's your name? Do you have any family we can contact?"

"It hurts," he said and shook his head.

"I bet it does, but you're going to live, I promise you. Do you know what happened to you?  
Charlie shook his head.

"You were shot. You're in a hospital." She said, soothingly.

"I saw a red flying," he said and he passed out again.

Andrea continued to smooth his hair back, stroking it absently. She touched his face. She seemed to be distracted and thoughtful, but suddenly shook her head, as if to clear it, and turned away.

"He's stabilized now," the other ER nurse, Margaret said, as she slipped off the blanket that had covered Charlie's body. "Oh wow," she said appreciatively, as she looked at his torso. "He's beautiful," she said. "Look, Andrea. Oh my God. Tattoos and scars. Oh," she said excitedly. "He's got a dragon tattoo on his shoulder. God, he's perfect."

Andrea turned back around to chastise her co-worker, but she stopped with her mouth hanging open as the word, "Margaret," died on her lips. He _was_ beautiful. The muscles on his chest and arms were clearly defined. There was not an ounce of fat on him.

"Too bad he wasn't shot in the leg or we could take his pants off," Margaret said, sighing.

"Margaret," Andrea scolded.

Andrea looked closely at Charlie's chest. She saw scars and burns on his chest and arms. He didn't wear a watch or any rings. He had a tattoo of a small black heart over his left breast, a beast she didn't recognize on the other breast and a dragon on his left shoulder. On his upper back he had a tattoo of some sort of crest with a lion on it and underneath the crest, there was a tattoo of a small golden ball with golden wings. On his right shoulder, near the bullet hole, he had a scar that looked like it had been sewn up. It wasn't a neat scar; it was jagged and looked like it had been sewn up with an ordinary needle and threat. Maybe it was a battle scar. Andrea touched the scar. It seemed familiar to her. Except for his long hair, he looked like a soldier. He looked more like a warrior than a soldier.

The bullet had passed through his upper chest, just missing any major organs. It was a clean shot and had exited through his back. He had lost a lot of blood. The EMS had bandaged the wounds and reduced the blood loss. It was still oozing blood and fluid, but blood was not flowing freely.

Andrea removed the bandage that the EMS had placed and started flushing out the wound.

"Margaret," she began, staring at the scar. "Remember the dream I told you about after I got back from Romania?"

"Yeah," Margaret said, checking the I-V line.

"This looks like the man. I am serious. Look at this scar. It looks just like the cut that I sewed up in my dream." She touched the tattoo of the hippogriff. "It's the same tattoo. I don't know what animal this is," she said, indicating the hippogriff, "but it is so familiar. I have seen this before."

She looked at his face again. "And when he said my name, I swear he knew me."

"Maybe he does. Maybe he's an old boyfriend or something. I've never seen him around here before, but that doesn't mean you haven't. Besides, I get first dibs on him. Go find your own Adonis." Margaret was getting more than annoying. Andrea touched the hole in Charlie's shoulder harder than she had meant to and was startled awake.

He sucked in his breath hard, and instinctively moved his hand to hers.

"I'm sorry, sir. I know it hurts," she said soothingly. Their eyes met.

He smiled at her. "Andrea," he said.

"Do I know you?" she asked boldly. "You look so familiar."

Charlie shook his head. "No," he said. "You would have remembered me," he said in a tone that did not sound as arrogant as his words. He tried to sit up. "Where am I?" he asked.

"You're at Memorial Center." Margaret chimed in.

"Where?" he asked again.

"Las Cruces."

"How did I get here?" he asked.

"Some hunters found you and called 9-1-1." Margaret answered. "You were very fortunate they found you when they did. Are you in pain still?"

He nodded, his whole body ached.

"Do you want something for the pain?"

He shook his head and started reaching for his robes. "Where're my clothes?"

"The EMS left your shirt and cloak over there," Andrea said. "What do you need?"

"My robes, uh cloak," he answered.

Andrea picked up the heavy cloak and handed it to him.

"Thank you," he said politely. He went through some hidden pockets and drew out a corked bottle. He removed the lid and started to take a drink.

"Sir, you can't drink that in here," Andrea said, taking the bottle away from him. As she was re-corking it she smelled the bottle. The liquid smelled like chocolate. She knew that smell from her dream. She looked hard at him like she was desperately trying to remember. He took the bottle away from her before she could protest again; he took a long drink from it, recapped it and put to back in a pocket in his robes. He closed his eyes, waiting on the elixir to work. Several seconds later, the pain was gone.

"May I sit up?" he asked politely. I'm not comfortable on my back." Margaret and Andrea helped him to a sitting position. His voice was stronger.

"Be careful, sir, you've lost a lot of blood." Margaret said. "What is your name, sir?"

"Weasley," Charlie said. "My name is Charlie Weasley ."

Andrea's hands were shaking. This was her dream. The dream she had had over and over since she returned from Romania. The man in the dream was named Charlie and he had long red hair and a smile that would break your heart.

Flustered, Andrea said, "I'm going to find the doctor." She walked away quickly and pushed open the door.

"Is there anyone we can notify?" Margaret asked absently. "Your wife?"

Charlie shook his head. "My family's not here." He didn't know how to tell the woman that he lived on a dragon preserve. "I don't know how to get in touch with the people I work with," he said honestly. It just occurred to him that he was completely lost. No one knew where he was. Surely they would come looking for him when he didn't show up back at the bunk house. He had lost his wand and had no idea where he was. Where was Las Cruces? What was it?

A man in a white lab coat pushed opened the door. "I'm Dr. Gonzales," he said, shaking Charlie's hand. "How are you doing?" Dr. Gonzales had a thick Mexican accent.

"Not bad," Charlie said, _considering I have a hole in my chest, _finishing the sentence in his head.

"You're very lucky," Dr. Gonzales held up a black sheet made up of some material that looked like paper but was translucent. Charlie could see white images on the black.

"What is that?" he asked.

"Your chest x-ray," the doctor answered. He held it up for him to see. He put the x-ray on a lighted panel. "See, the bullet passed clean through."

Charlie was fascinated. "This is what I look like inside?"

"More or less," the doctor said. He patiently pointed out his bones and lungs and the hole the bullet had made.

"Can I keep this?" Charlie asked. "I've never seen anything like this. What did you call it?"

"Chest x-ray. I don't think you're allowed to keep it. It is hospital property."

The doctor removed the bandages from Charlie's chest and back. He shook his head. "Amazing. The sheriff wants to ask you some questions. We'll keep you here for a few days because of the amount of blood you've lost and your body has been traumatized, but you're very strong. You're recovering amazingly fast. You'll be sore for a while. The bullet tore through muscle. Can't believe there wasn't more damage."

"What kind of gun?"

"Hunting rifle, high powered ammunition. It was an accident."

"I know. I didn't see it coming." Charlie said. "I was distracted."

"As soon as there's a bed available upstairs, we'll be moving you. Good day to you, sir." He shook his hand again and was gone.

Margaret was waiting to re-bandage the wound. "I like your tatts," she said, smoothing the surgical tape over the gauge, creating a neat little package. "What do they mean?" She pointed to the hippogriff.

"It's a hippogriff. Half horse, half eagle. Uh, it's a mythical creature," he said.

She fingered the black heart over his chest. "What's that about? Some girl broke your heart?" she asked playfully.

Charlie shook his head and looked at the heart. He touched it. "It's for my brother, Fred, who was killed."

She felt stupid. "I'm sorry."

He touched her arm and smiled. "It's okay. It's what we do where I come from to honor the dead."

"This dragon looks like the one Andrea wears around her neck. She got it when she got back from Romania. She said she doesn't know why she bought it, but all at once, she had to have the dragon." Margaret gave a little laugh. "She told me she dreamed about a dragon and a man saving her life. The man flew or something like that. I think she was obsessed with the dream for a while."

"Where is she now?" Charlie asked, interrupting.

Margaret shrugged. "Maybe on a break." She felt snubbed. "Are you ready to talk to the sheriff?" She asked briskly.

Charlie shrugged. "I can't tell them anything. I didn't see anything. Like I said, I was distracted."

"I'll go get him. I can't leave you here by yourself, you might pass out or something. Damn, hold on." She walked over to the door and held it open. "Can you come in here for a minute?" she asked someone outside. A young Latina woman dressed in blue scrubs walked in.

"Can you find the sheriff? He wanted to talk to our patient here." She pointed toward Charlie.

"Yes ma'am," the woman said and walked out. A minute later, a man wearing a uniform, holding a cowboy hat in his hands followed the young woman into the small room.

"Good evening, sir," the man said formally. "I'm deputy Dupree with the Dona Ana County Sheriff's Office. I understand that you were shot. The hospital is required by law to report all gunshot wounds and we have to investigate. We have a statement from the hunters who found you; I just need to ask you a couple of questions. Do you feel up to it now?"

Charlie wasn't sure he could answer any questions. How could he explain he was riding on a broom in a dragon preserve? He couldn't tell the deputy where he lived or why he was out in the middle of the desert at that time of day. "I'm not sure I can help you, sir," he said politely. "I was standing on a ridge, looking at the sunset, and then the next thing I knew I was on my way to the hospital. I'm a tourist, from England," he said unnecessarily." "I wandered too far out, I guess."

"Where are you staying?" the deputy asked, writing in a long thin notebook. "In case we have to get in touch with you later," he explained.

"In El Paso," thinking of another city close by that he had heard of. "I can't think of the name of the inn right now, but I'll be here for a couple more days, the doctor said."

The deputy raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "You did wander a ways, didn't you?"

"I got a ride from someone," he lied.

The deputy fingered the holster on his gun belt. "Looks like the shooting was an accident," he said finally. "You're lucky you weren't shot by a bunch of drunks, or you'd still be out in the desert. The man who accidently shot you was a legally registered hunter and an upstanding citizen. He did the right thing."

Charlie nodded wordlessly. The less he said, the better, he thought.

Within the hour, Charlie had been moved upstairs to the critical care unit. For a man who had sustained a gunshot wound to the chest, he was doing extremely well. The potion had effectively killed the pain. Except for weakness due to the blood loss, he felt fine. He was concerned that no one from the wizarding community knew where he was. If only he had his wand, he could send a patronus to let them know where he was.

At around eleven that evening, he was beginning to drift off to sleep. He was hooked up to all kinds of weird wires that made beeping sounds when he moved. People were coming in at all hours checking this or probing that. He was still hooked to an I-V machine. The door to his room swung open and there was a soft knock.

"May I come in?" a female voice whispered.

Charlie sat up. "Yes, please."

The figure moved from the shadow to the light. It was Andrea. "I just stopped by to see how you're doing." She said, keeping her tone light. "I just got off my shift."

Charlie stared at her without saying anything until she began to feel uncomfortable. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," she said more to herself than to Charlie.

"I'm sorry," Charlie said, pulling the covers up to conceal his chest. "Please sit down."

Andrea approached him cautiously. She seemed not to be able to decide what she wanted to do. "I'm surprised to see you up and around," she began. "You must be in terrible pain."

Charlie shook his head. "Not really. I'm a little stiff, but I think that's from the fall. I sort of tensed up when I fell off the ridge."

Andrea exhaled loudly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you. I— "she turned to leave, but he grabbed her hand.

"Andrea," he said in a low voice.

Andrea let out a sob and tried to pull her hand loose, but he held on tight.

"I dreamed about you," she said, finally. "Your hair, your eyes; that tattoo on your chest. I dreamed you saved my life, and there was a dragon and you could fly. It was you in my dreams and I know I've never seen you before. What do you think it means?"

He cleared his throat. "Maybe you have seen me somewhere before."

She shook her head. "I keep trying to remember. It's driving me crazy." She laughed nervously.

If she could only remember, thought Charlie. He couldn't tell her the whole story, but if she remembered it, then he would be able to tell her that her dreams were true. "What do you remember?"

"It was only a dream, but I was on the bus with my friend Mindy. A man got hurt, real bad then you appeared." She shook her head. "I don't know how you got there."

Charlie didn't speak. He let her finish.

"You, I mean the man got cut on something, and I sewed up the wound." She pointed to the scar. You kissed me." She looked at him. Charlie took her hand and kissed it.

He wasn't going to kiss her again because he knew he wouldn't be able to stop.

But he did, and it was heaven.

"Charlie," she whispered and he groaned. She pulled away from him and ran out of the door.

He didn't call after her. He sat deathly still, listening to his heart beating.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen—The Decision

Charlie watched the sun come up from the wide window in his hospital room. The morning shift came in to check his vital signs. A perky girl about eighteen years old brought him a breakfast tray. He discovered he was very hungry because he hadn't eaten anything since noon the day before. He sweet-talked her into bringing another tray. He drank something they told him was de-caf, whatever that was. It tasted like water with a little coffee in it.

Dr. Gonzales came in to check his progress. He was still amazed that Charlie was doing so well. He still wanted to keep him in the critical care unit for at least the next four hours. Charlie told him he was fit to leave, but the doctor wouldn't hear of it. He still didn't hurt, he assured the doctor. He had taken the pain elixir twice during the night and managed to smuggle some dittany onto his wounds without the hospital staff noticing it.

He refused to think about what had happened when Andrea appeared at his door. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen. He would wait, and if she returned, he'd know what to do.

At around ten o'clock in the morning, after his vital signs were checked, there was a loud tap on his door. Expecting another nurse, he called out, "Come in."

The door opened slowly, and he heard a tiny voice. "Mr. Weaswey," the voice said.

He sat up in bed, "Trudy?" he called out. "Mike?"

Trudy came in, dragging her mother who was pushing baby Mike, Jr. in a stroller.

"Charlie? Is that you? Thank God, we've found you!" Lindsey exclaimed. "I have been to every hospital here and El Paso. What happened to you?"

Charlie's eyes lit up and he pulled the hospital gown he wore down and exposed the bandage. "I got shot!" he said enthusiastically. "It hurt like hell!"

"Wow," Lindsey said, not as enthusiastically, but Trudy jumped up trying to see the bandage.

"Mike and the rest are frantic. Mike blames himself for leaving you. He was afraid something like this happened. And wizards are totally useless when it comes to using the telephone or trying to find someone not in their own little world," Lindsey said good naturedly.

"I'm so glad you found me. I lost my wand, so I'm pretty useless myself. I didn't know what I was going to do," Charlie said. "I was unconscious for a long time right after I got shot. I woke up when they were taking me away. They put this thingy over my nose and mouth so I couldn't talk and they had me strapped down. It was like a full body binding curse."

The activity around Charlie's room had picked up once Lindsey and her children showed up. Some of the staff were taking turns poking their heads into his room. They had pretty dour expressions once they saw the beautiful woman and two cute kids. They must have decided that Lindsey was Charlie's wife. Lindsey got up and closed the door on one nurse who had to move quickly to avoid being hit in the head with the door.

Lindsey dug deep in Mikey's diaper bag and pulled out a clear ball that looked like it had blue smoke in it. It looked like a Sneak-o-scope. Lindsey put her lips on the ball and the blue smoke started to swirl around. She spoke directly into it and the blue smoke turned white. She held the ball out in front of her and the white smoke disappeared. She put the ball back into the diaper bag. Looking at Charlie's expression, for he had clearly never seen such a device, she grinned. "It's a wizard's version of a text message. Mike invented it so we could communicate. I just told him where you are. They'll be here momentarily."

True to her word, there were two loud cracks, and Mike and Jack were standing in front of the bed. Both wizards looked very relieved. Before too long, Charlie's room was filled with dragon keepers. The wizards were extremely animated.

"I found your wand and your broom," Mike said, handing his wand to him.

"Thanks," said Charlie, gratefully. "I was lost without my wand." He flicked his wand and stars erupted from the end. "I was afraid I had broken it. I landed pretty hard when I fell off the ridge. How's the broom?"

Mike shrugged. "No damage at all. It was still on the ridge when I found it. I guess you landed there and rolled of."

Mike looked at his feet and then shook his head. "Dang it, Charlie, if I hadn't been in such a hurry to go home…" his voice trailed off.

"Stop it right there, Mike. This was all my fault. It had nothing to do with you. I saw the two muggle trucks, but I got distracted." He sat up in bed excitedly. "You will not believe what I saw," he said. Not waiting for a reply, he grinned and grabbed hold of the front of Jack's robes. "I saw a red, flying. It was a juvenile, which might explain why we have to rescue them so often. They must take off, get tired quickly because the little wings can't support them, but the flying is instinct, and then they fall like a rock. I couldn't believe it. I took my eyes off the muggles to watch the red, and Bam!"

"Are you kidding me?" Jack asked in amazement.

The other dragon keepers began talking at once. They couldn't believe Charlie's luck.

What a helluva study that would make!

The noise escalated to the level of free beer night at a quidditch match. Suddenly, the door swung open and a nurse appeared. Where had all these people come from? No one had seen all the men come in. She stood with her hand on the door, too astonished to speak.

When she did find her voice again, she said, "There're too many people in this room. Out!"

Some of them began the first step in disapparating, but Lindsey, Mike and Charlie shook their heads vehemently. "Not here," Lindsey said loudly. The wizards nodded. "Sorry," they said. "We didn't want to get you in any more trouble."

Charlie flung the covers off his bed. He was wearing a hospital gown. He pulled the gown down as far as he could. "Give me a minute, and I'm right behind you," he said, ready to disapparate.

"Charlie, you really should stay here," Lindsey said. "At least for a couple of days."

Charlie shook his head. "No, I trust the healers at the preserve." He was adamant.

"Mike, Jack, talk some sense into him," she pleaded. "Just one more night. We're talking about a gunshot wound not a spell."

"It's the same thing," Charlie said. "I feel like I survived the killing curse."

"You may feel all _studly_ now," she pointed out angrily. "But you could have died."

Charlie looked at Mike and laughed. Mike shook his head. "Okay, one more night, and you guys better be here to pick me up."

Lindsey had a smug look on her face. She crossed her arms and smirked.

"And bring me some food. They're starving me here."

Lindsey grilled him with a look.

"Please," he said politely.

Within seconds the room cleared out. Lindsey and Mike and the children remained.

"I've got to get these crumb crunchers something to eat," Lindsey said. She kissed her husband and kissed Charlie on the cheek. "Behave," she admonished, pointing her finger at Charlie.

Mike followed Lindsey to the door and kissed her again and kissed Trudy and Mike Jr.

Charlie watched them quietly. Once she had left, Charlie said, "You really do have it all," he said to Mike.

Mike smiled. "It's not easy," he said.

"Mike," Charlie took a deep breath. "I don't know if my life is charmed or cursed. Andrea's here."

"What? " he said incredulously. "What do you mean, here?"

"She works at this hospital. She was working when I arrived here. She took care of me. I talked to her."

"Does she remember anything?" he asked.

Charlie shook his head, "But she's been having dreams; dreams about the dragon and me. She told me her dreams. She's very confused. And I really don't know what to do or how much to tell her."

Mike didn't speak. He nodded his head.

"I think that maybe is my second chance." Charlie continued. "Or not."

Charlie swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He wanted to walk around. He pulled himself up on his feet and tried to stand up. He immediately felt nauseated, light headed and knew that if he stood up he would pass out. Frustrated he fell back down in the bed and lay down. He had never felt so weak in his life. The color drained from his face.

"Better take it easy, Charlie," Mike helped him back into bed. "Lindsey was right. You need rest."

Charlie nodded. "That was odd," he said.

"Look, Charlie, you have to take it easy. Don't push it. Like they said, you lost a lot of blood and your body needs to recover. Relax for a day or two. I'll come back later this evening. Okay?"

Charlie nodded. He was still feeling very weak. "Thanks for finding me," he said.

Mike grinned. "I couldn't go back to the boss and tell him I lost our best dragon keeper," he said. "We'll see you later." And then he was gone.

Charlie sat alone, but not lonely like before. His friends had found him. He knew now that he was going to be all right. He blew out a breath and straightened himself in the bed. He took a drink from the pain elixir he kept on the table beside the bed. He needed something else to build his blood. The dittany worked on the wound and the elixir helped with the pain. What would his mother do?

The rest of the afternoon Charlie worked desperately to keep the owls that flew into his window hidden from the medical staff. He received letters and cards from the female staff at the preserve, plus a long letter from Joanna Morgan promising to come by that night for a visit.

Bouquets of flowers mysteriously appeared by his bedside and soon his room was filled with flowers and candy. One of the charge nurses sniffed, "Yesterday nobody knew your name and today you're a celebrity?"

Charlie just shrugged and grinned. "Every time I try to stand up, I get dizzy and feel like I'm going to black out. When will I be able to walk without feeling like I'm going to throw up?" he asked as the nurse replaced the I-V bag.

"We'll help you get up today, if you're able. I'm sure your doctor will want you to start walking as soon as you can." She patted his arm, reassuringly. "Maybe after supper."

The nurse turned to leave when she spotted a bottle of mezcal on the bedside table that wasn't there when she walked in two minutes earlier. She picked it up and shook her head. "You can't have alcohol here. You can have it back when you leave." The woman had a disapproving look on her face.

"Keep it," Charlie said just as sourly. "I can get more," he said under his breath.

After the evening meal, Charlie got the opportunity to get up from his bed. At first he was moved to the chair by the bed so he could sit up. The I-V was attached to a pole with wheels so we he started to walk he could take it with him. He still felt weak, but he was determined to walk. His weakness embarrassed him. He had always been strong and self-sufficient.

The next two hours was spent walking around the corridor of the hospital wing. He took breaks, but steadily moved forward. The farther he walked, the stronger he became. Soon he was walking on his own. When he returned to his room, he was surprised to see Joanna reading the cards he had received.

"Told you I'd come," she said walking up to him and giving him a quick kiss on the lips. "Your mates told me what happened and I couldn't believe it. You going to be all right?"

Charlie nodded. "It's good to see you." He kissed her again lightly. He made his way back to the chair next to his bed. "Have a seat," he said, indicating the bed.

"Isn't all this fascinating?" she asked. She pointed to the oxygen tank. "What is that?"

"To help with breathing. This stuff is cool, isn't it?" Joanna played with some of the equipment, fascinated.

"Are you going to be all right?" She asked, suddenly concerned with a slight break in her voice. "I mean, really?" She was starting to tear up.

"Yes," he said emphatically.

"I don't understand what happened to you. Jack said you got shot. What is that?"

He explained what a rifle was and a bullet and how the bullet went straight through. He showed her both wounds.

As she was examining the hole in his back, there was soft knock at the door, and then the door opened slowly. It was Andrea. Charlie jumped up and Joanna was knocked back onto the bed. "Sorry," he said to Joanna, helping her to her feet.

"Please, come in," Charlie said to Andrea. But she hesitated, not sure if she wanted to interrupt. "Come in," he repeated. "Please."

Andrea hesitated again. "I just wanted to check to see how you are doing," she said, professionally. "You look better."

"Yes, I walked a bit today. I feel much stronger." There was an awkward silence.

Joanna took the hint. "Can I use the loo?" she asked, rising to her feet. Charlie quickly nodded and pointed to the bathroom door. Joanna grinned and winked. "Thanks," she said and disappeared into the bath room.

"She's a friend," he said hurriedly.

"I was on my way to work and just wanted to see how you're doing," she explained.

"Andrea, I'm so glad you came back. I didn't mean to frighten you off when I, uh…" he said.

"It's okay. I wanted to apologize for bothering you." She put her hands in her coat pocket nervously. "I imagine you didn't know what to think, some deranged woman going on about a silly dream. It's probably the worst come-on line in the world." She smiled and took a step closer to him.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," Charlie said. "I'd like to see you."

Andrea swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, but I'm married. I should have never –"

Charlie jumped up out of the chair. "You're lying to me," he said. Suddenly he felt the blood drain from his head. He grabbed her arms, but let go quickly, sitting back down on the chair.

She shook her head. "No, I'm not. I married a man I met when I went to Romania. He was part of our tour group. He got attacked by a wolf after the bus broke down, and I nursed him back to health and we just grew close.

"The trip has haunted me. I had dreams about it and they seemed so real, but they didn't make any sense. They were just dreams. I let my imagination get the better of me when I saw you. I realize now how ridiculous they sounded."

"What if they weren't just dreams?" Charlie said. "What if it was real? What if you were made to forget what really happened? Would it matter?"

"That's ridiculous. There're no such things as dragons or magic or unicorns. Look, I'm very sorry I bothered you. I'm glad you're doing well, and I want to apologize for giving you the wrong idea about me. I won't bother you again." She turned and walked toward the door. Without pausing, she opened the door and was gone.

A few minutes later, Joanna came out of the bathroom. Charlie wasn't sure if she'd heard their conversation, but he didn't want to talk about it if she had. With any luck, she would ignore what just happened and she'd leave.

"Weasley," Joanna began. She was drying her hands on her robe. "Why don't you stay here and play for America? Popov is very interested in you. I know he would sign you as a seeker. You could stay in America and travel and do what you really love and what you were mean to do."

"I like working with dragons," he said finally.

"Yes, but you _love_ quidditch. How many blokes get the opportunity to do both? Most of the players have other interests. The wizards in America are only starting to come around to traditional quidditch so it's not a year-round sport. We could have a great team. You're brilliant, Weasley. You like America, don't you?"

"Yes," he admitted. "But what about my family?"

"What about them? You're not dropping off the edge of the world, Weasley. You can go home any time you want and we'll be playing Britain and Ireland and the rest of Europe. You'll probably see them more than when you're working at that sanctuary in Romania." She tapped him on the thigh, affectionately.

"What if I can't play?" he said thinking out loud.

"_Please_. You're brilliant, Weasley. Even on your worst day you're better than that ninny we have now. Popov _really_ wants to talk to you."

"I just got shot," he said, irrationally.

Joanna gave him a frustrated look. "Think about it, please."

Charlie shook his head, but didn't say no. Joanna grinned broadly. "Good! As soon as you're ready, Popov wants to see you." Joanna was delighted. She clapped her hands together gleefully. "Brilliant!"

"I didn't say yes," Charlie protested.

"But you didn't say no, either." She pointed a finger at him. "I gotta run. I need to see Popov. He wanted to know what you said. This is so great!" She kissed him soundly on the lips. She disapparated in front of him with a loud "pop."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter twenty—The Flying American Red Dragons

Within a fortnight Charlie was back to work. The preserve was in an uproar over his discovery of the flying ability of the American Reds. The American Wizard newspapers published an article about the discovery and the preserve got the recognition it deserved. Charlie was asked to join the research team, which he gladly accepted.

Charlie thought long and hard about Joanna's offer. He discussed it with his new friends and his old friends and family. The Preserve offered him a full-time job and told him that during quidditch season he would be given a leave of absence should he be chosen for the team.

His friends from Austin came round and told him that they had heard some stirrings about the increase of dark wizards. Travis and the two Tex's told him that they were committed to fight the dark wizards in Fred's name, and he was invited to join them to fight the dark wizards. Travis had committed himself to warning American wizards about the dark arts and protecting muggles. Travis had done some research and found out all about Lord Voldemort and the death eaters. He did not want a repeat of the years of terror that the death eaters and Lord Voldemort had inflicted. They needed Charlie's expertise and experience fighting the death eaters.

Lindsey introduced Charlie to her cousin Jessica at a family barbeque. Jessica was a free-spirited, open-minded woman. They hit it off immediately.

Popov offered Charlie a spot as seeker for an obscene amount of galleons. He wanted to make sure the offer was tempting and he was willing to make enough concessions to lure Charlie. Popov offered him the starting position. Charlie told him that he would seriously consider the offer if he was willing to change the name of the team. Popov said he'd get back with him.

Charlie decided before he made up his mind, he needed to go back home to England and talk to his family face-to-face. A year ago, Charlie would never have considered living in America. He had always considered his life to be full the way it was. His family was too important to him not to consult them in his decision. Molly and Arthur were supportive. They gave him pros and cons and told him that they would support him.

There were so many reasons for Charlie to remain with the sanctuary in Romania. He was now a fellow and he had the opportunity to become a director. He loved what he did. His family was closer and he could spend time with his nieces and nephews and watch them grow up. He had so many friends in Romania and England. Whatever he decided, he needed to make up his mind soon.

Four months later, Charlie Weasley, sat on his broom, waving to the crowds at his debut as seeker of the Flying American Red Dragons. In the stands were his parents, his co-workers from the dragon preserve, Travis, the two Tex's, and his girlfriend, Jessica. Charlie Weasley had it all.


End file.
